


Soulbound

by SheepishGoat



Series: Soulbound [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 'Red' is not Underfell's 'Red', Adult Asriel Dreemurr, Angst! :D, Angst! D:, Are We Having Fun Yet, Bonding, Fluff, Happy Ending, I Know What This Looks Like, M/M, Male Protagonist, Not Actually a Sansfic, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Red may have some issues, Red's a Sensitive Guy, Red's the only human in the neighborhood, Rewrite, Sans may have made a mistake, Social Tensions, Starting a new life, Tags May Change, Twelve Years Later, Unrequited Crush, but the skeleton isn't the primary love interest, i'll add more with new chapters, no seriously, oh no Sans has it bad, papyrus can cook, puns, what's that did someone say 'puns' well alright if you insist, whatever he'll get over it eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:43:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheepishGoat/pseuds/SheepishGoat
Summary: IT’S THE AGE-OLD STORY:BOY MOVES TO NEW CITY. BOY MEETS SKELETON. SKELETON VIOLATES BOY’S PRIVACY. SKELETON INVITES BOY TO LUNCH LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED. BOY SAYS “YES.” BOY MEETS SKELETON’S COOL, HANDSOME BROTHER AND THEIR ALMOST-AS-COOL FRIENDS. SPAGHETTI IS MADE.OH, AND ALSO A MYSTERIOUS GOAT IS ADMIRED FROM A DISTANCE.A CLASSIC ANDWEIRDLY FAMILIARTALE. TRULY.[A ground-up rewrite of my first work on Ao3, Soulbound. The original is not required (or recommended) reading.]





	1. A New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK!
> 
> ...AND VERY DEFINITELY NOT DEAD!
> 
> Golly, it's been a while. Nothing quite like getting almost thirty chapters into a work only to realize you're unhappy with most of it to throw off a person's schedule, huh? Haha!
> 
> For those of you interested, this initial chapter was preceded by another, much less serious chapter added to the crackfic in the associated series. If you happened to read the original five chapters I posted way back in November 2018, said crackfic chapter may be of interest.
> 
> HINT.
> 
> For anyone who _hasn't_ read the original... I can't really say I'd recommend doing so. I've improved a lot as an author since I wrote those chapters, and they add very little to the experience.
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoy what I've done with it.
> 
> **Edit – September 16, 2019:** Cleaned up a few errors in the formatting. Seems like the Archive doesn't 100% like me copy-pasting text from Google Docs into the rich text editor. Maybe I should just try the import function, next time? I guess if I want it perfect, I could just paste it into the HTML editor and do the formatting manually... Which also might take care of the odd line spacing. Eh. I'll mess with it.
> 
> **Edit - September 22, 2019:** Fixed the spacing, at least! :D

“SANS! WAKE UP, LAZYBONES!”

Sans blearily opens a socket to the sound of his brother's loud, rapid knocking on his bedroom door. Then he closes it again.

“five more minutes, paps,” he groans into his pillow.

“YOU SAID THAT FIVE MINUTES AGO,” Papyrus counters, having somehow heard him. Sans still doesn't know how he does that. “AND I HAVE TO LEAVE FOR WORK SOON. WHO WILL WAKE YOU THEN?” There's a pause in which Sans can hear his brother gasp. “I COULD CALL UNDYNE! I'M SURE SHE'D BE HAPPY TO—”

“nope!” Sans calls, immediately rolling out from under the sheets. _ That _ woke him up. “nope, i'm up, that's okay!”

“ARE YOU SURE?” He almost sounds disappointed. “I KNOW SHE'S BEEN LOOKING FOR SOMEONE TO TRAIN WITH, AND—”

“yep! nope! i'm... i'm good!” He really doesn't feel like dodging spears today.

“WELL... IF YOU'RE SURE.” Papyrus says dejectedly. Sans lets out a breath of relief.

“yeah. i've got a few things i need to take care of today anyway."

  
  


Papyrus is already gone by the time Sans is finally showered and dressed, having left a note on the kitchen counter next to a heaping plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, still warm. Sans' perpetual grin softens at that. His brother really is the coolest. He sits down by the window and watches cars go by as he eats.

It’s not long before he finishes his meal, however, and he stands with a sigh. As much as he’d like to take the day off, he really does have work to do. He checks the time. The kid should be out by now. 

Leaving his plate in the sink, he glances out the window again. The weather's nice enough, he decides. Might as well take the bus. He slips on his favorite coat and steps outside.

  
  


It’s almost noon by the time his errand is over with, and Sans is enjoying the feeling of sunshine on his bones as he walks down the street.

It’s one he doesn’t get enough of, he thinks. Not that he doesn’t go out much—he’s just rarely relaxed enough to savor it.

One of the drawbacks of being a monster living on the fringes of Ebott’s human side is that he’s had to learn to watch his back whenever he leaves the house. Sure, most humans are indifferent to him. Maybe a few will send dirty looks his way as they pass him on the sidewalk. But there are some people out there who will, for whatever reason, go out of their way to try and give him a bad time.

But here, on a mostly-empty street, deep in the monster side of the city, Sans can let his guard down just enough to relish the warmth of the midday sun.

...Which is why he’s not expecting it when he rounds a corner a little too sharply and bounces straight off a human.

Sans lands painfully on the concrete. He sits there for a second, stunned, before his mind catches up to the sudden change in motion.

_ He just walked into a human. _

He’s not sure what to expect here. Disgust? Anger? Violence, maybe? He tenses on instinct, ready for some kind of retaliation—verbal or otherwise.

So he’s again taken by surprise when he gets an apology, instead.

“Shit, sorry!”

He looks up to see a human man standing over him with genuine abashment in his expression.

“You alright?” the man asks, offering Sans a hand.

Sans just stares.

The human’s brow furrows. “I didn’t give you a concussion, did I?” His eyes scan over Sans worriedly. “God, you’re all bone, aren’t you? Are concussions a thing you can get? Did I crack anything?”

Sans looks vacantly up at him. Then the questions register. “no! no, i’m uh... i’m alright.” He cautiously takes the stranger’s hand, and he helps him to his feet.

Sans doesn’t remember human hands being so soft. But then, he can’t remember the last time he was offered one.

“You’re sure?” the human asks. “You were looking kind of dazed there, for a second.”

“yeah. just... surprised, i guess.”

“Sorry,” the human says again.

“don’t worry about it,” he replies distractedly, taking his first good look at his sudden companion.

He’s a good four or five inches taller than Sans, but definitely still on the short side, for a human male. There’s a worn-looking messenger bag over his shoulder, and he’s wearing a deep crimson dress shirt and dark gray pants. And he’s wearing them _ well _, too; his entire outfit looks like it was tailor-made for him.

He’s got a lean frame, dark brown hair, light skin... Are his eyes gray, or just a very muted blue? It’s hard to tell in this lighting, but they definitely look gray.

Is that a common thing with humans? Gray eyes? He’s heard the phrase “stormy eyes” before, but he thought it was just an expression. He doesn’t think he’s seen anyone with that particular trait before, but then again, it’s possible he’s just never noticed—

“So..." Stormy starts, dragging Sans back to the present. “Come here often?”

Sans blinks at him. “uh..."

Stormy smiles amusedly. “I figure we should probably get to know each other a little better if we’re gonna keep holding hands like this,” he says, squeezing the hand Sans still has wrapped around his.

“oh!” Sans lets go. “heh. sorry.”

“That’s alright.” The human bends down to pick a heavy-looking book up off the sidewalk. A textbook? _ Introduction to Monster Culture. _ Huh.

He turns back to Sans, smile still in place—or maybe a little brighter?

“After knocking you down like that, _ giving you a hand _ is the least I can do.”

Sans’ sockets widen slightly.

_ Was that...? _

He feels his grin sharpen, just a little. “hey, it’s no skin off my nose,” he says, brushing a thumb over his nasal cavity.

Stormy blinks at him before letting out a loud snort. He probably hadn’t been expecting him to catch the joke, let alone retaliate.

But then his eyes narrow, and... He looks suspiciously like he’s trying to think up a respo—

“As long as you don’t have any _ bones _ to pick with me.”

_ Holy shit. _

Stormy grins at him proudly.

Sans just stares, dumbstruck. This is happening. He’s having a pun battle with a human stranger he ran into on the sidewalk, and it’s _ totally happening. _

He shakes himself out of his awe after a moment. He has to; the human _ clearly _ thinks he’s won, and Sans can’t have _ that, _ can he?

“i thought the whole thing was pretty _ humerus, _ to pa_tell_a the truth.”

Stormy bursts out laughing.

He’s got an uneven, breathless chuckle—the kind you only get from people whose full, unrestrained laughter makes them sound like they’re dying.

Sans _ lives _ for that kind of laugh.

So now he’s curious.

Maybe against his better judgment, Sans finds himself focusing on his gray-eyed friend as he chuckles. Not on his face, or his body; Sans goes beyond that, past the physical, until he can see the core of his being.

Sans looks at his SOUL.

And the first thing he sees is red.

This human’s SOUL is a stunning, _ burning _ red; a red so vibrant and pure that it defies any true description. It’s the red of a rose, the red of a sunset, the red of blood, of love and fury.

It’s the red of Determination, and it’s the most intense that Sans has ever seen in a SOUL.

...Well. _ Second _ most, anyway.

Barely visible beneath the waves of scarlet, he can see other colors swirling within—secondary traits. The most prominent is violet, for Insight, then blue, for Integrity, and orange, for Bravery.

The human’s stats roll through Sans’ mind:

**LV 1**

**HP 38/38**

**AT 0(2) EXP: 0**

**DF 0(28) NEXT: 10**

**WEAPON: Scuffed Textbook**

**ARMOR: Gold Pendant**

But that’s not all there is to this SOUL. There’s more. There’s _ always _ more. Sans can feel it whispering to him from under the surface—faint music, just _ barely _ audible through a sturdy door.

He’s seen hundreds of SOULs, heard each of their distant melodies calling to him, and until now, he’s never followed one. But this? Something about this human’s song is different. And for the first time in his life, _ he needs to know. _

So before he knows what he’s doing, Sans goes deeper.

Beyond the colors and the numbers, he starts to see the pieces that make up the human before him.

Nothing specific at first; it starts off vague, seemingly random. A hint of intent here, a flash of emotion there... Scattered fragments of an image Sans can’t yet make out. But it’s not long before he begins to see patterns in the chaos, and the pieces reveal themselves faster and faster as he starts to put them together.

Sans is catching glimpses of _ him. _ Who he is, how he thinks, the feelings that drive him, all of it getting clearer and clearer and _ clearer and— _

_ And— _

Sans tears his eyes away.

Too far.

_ Holy hell, _ that was _ too far. _

He blinks his sockets, clearing the image of blazing red from his vision as the Determined human reigns in his laughter, completely unaware of what just happened.

Sans _ really _ didn’t mean to do that.

“Okay, I think you win,” the human says once he’s got himself back under control.

Sans chances a confused glance over at him, trying to keep the shock off his face. “uh... huh?”

“I mean, I think I put up a good fight and all, but I just can’t compete with a one-two punch like that.”

Sans stares at him blankly.

The human’s smile fades a little. “...The pun war? That we just had?”

“oh. right.”

He studies Sans’ face for a second, his brows knit. “You sure you didn’t hit your head or something?”

“yeah,” Sans says, seeing an opportunity to make a recovery. “besides, my skull’s pretty thick.” He winks and raps his knuckles on the side of his head.

The hollow sound it makes earns Sans another snort. “And after I’ve already admitted defeat, too,” the human says in mock offense.

Sans grins up at him, relieved he bought the deflection. “don’t start battles you aren’t prepared to finish, bud.”

“Good advice. Wouldn’t want anything to get too out of _ hand. _” The grin he gives Sans with that is positively shit-eating.

It takes him a second, and he _ almost _ misses it, but when Sans catches the punchline he lets out a bout of genuine, completely surprised laughter.

“holy shit,” he says once he’s got himself back under control. “the full-circle pun. well played, kid.”

“I try my best,” Stormy tells him modestly.

...Huh.

_ Stormy. _

Sans isn’t sure that name really works for this human. Yeah, he’s got gray eyes, but... Sans can’t help but feel like “gray” makes for a poor description.

“Red” is a _ much _ better fit.

Sans and Red stand in satisfied silence for a moment, enjoying the aftermath of their exchange.

It’s not long before it passes, though, and Sans sees Red’s expression fall a little.

The human sighs. “Alright, well. As amazing as this was, I should probably get going. There’s a bowl of instant noodles with my name on it waiting for me back home.”

Sans’ grin fades as he realizes that he might never see him again if he leaves now, and he _ really _ doesn’t want that.

That’s not something he would’ve expected to think about a human he’s known for literally five minutes, but...

...Red’s got a good SOUL.

“I’ll see you around.”

He gives Sans a smile and starts walking away.

“wait!” Sans says before he can stop himself. Red looks back at him, confused. “i, uh..."

_ Shit. _

_ Now _what does he do?

It’s true that Sans doesn’t want to let someone like him walk away, but... Can he really justify doing anything else?

Sans invaded his SOUL. Trait colors and stats are one thing, but he went further than that. Further than he’s ever gone into anyone. Not far enough to hear thoughts or see memories, but he still saw pieces of him that no stranger has any right to, and that’s not okay.

Maybe it would be better if Sans never sees him again.

...

“you wanna grab some lunch with me?” Sans blurts.

Red’s eyebrows shoot up.

“i know a place that makes the best burgers in town, ‘couple blocks that way,” he continues, pointing vaguely down the street.

“I’ve known you for all of five minutes after knocking you down on the sidewalk, and you’re asking me to lunch?”

Sans starts to sweat. He shrugs helplessly.

“I don’t even know your name, dude.”

“sans.”

Red blinks. “Sorry?”

“‘s my name. sans the skeleton.”

Red looks at him for a couple long, agonizing seconds.

“...i’m buying?”

“Alright, sure,” the human says casually.

“w-wait, really?”

Red shrugs. “Yeah, why not? Lunch with a pun-loving skeleton _ and _ the best burgers in town? Sounds like a sweet deal to me. Much better than my instant noodle plan.”

Sans relaxes, happy despite himself. “cool.”

He starts to walk, and Red falls into step beside him, stowing the textbook he was carrying in his bag as he goes. “So what did you say this place was called?”

“grillby’s. you’ll love it.”

  
  


Sans watches his human companion take in the wood-covered interior of the building.

“This is the coziest restaurant I’ve ever been in,” Red tells him.

“you could say the owner knows how to keep a _ warm _ atmosphere,” he replies.

Red gives him a look. “That felt like a pun I’m missing the context for.”

“don’t worry, it’ll come to ya. c’mon,” he says, leading the way further into the restaurant.

Sans and Red take seats at the bar. Red picks up a menu and glances over it briefly before putting it back down.

“know what you want already?” Sans asks.

“I was promised a great burger,” Red says. Then his smile turns challenging. “And I’ve gotta see if it lives up to the hype.”

Sans mirrors the human’s expression. “oh, so you’re a burger snob, then?”

“I prefer the term ‘connoisseur.’”

“uh-huh. well, far be it from me to question your refined tastes, but you’ve got it wrong, kid.”

“How’s that?”

“you weren’t promised ‘a great burger.’ you were promised the _ best _ burger,” he corrects him.

Red eyes him skeptically. “See, now ‘great’ I might have believed, but you’re telling me this place serves _ The Best _ burger? That’s kind of a tall order, isn’t it?”

“nah, it’s only about yea high,” Sans says without missing a beat, holding his hand a few inches off of the bartop.

Red closes his eyes and lets out a breath, bowing his head slightly in the perfect picture of defeat. The effect is ruined somewhat by the fact that he’s still smiling, though. “Okay, I walked into that one.”

“yup.”

Before Sans can tease him anymore, however, the door to the kitchen opens. Out of it walks a green-and-gold fire elemental wearing dark slacks and a black vest over a spotless white dress shirt. Just like her father.

“heya, fuku,” Sans calls, waving her over.

Red turns to look, and his eyes widen briefly. Then he closes them and lets out another sigh. “‘Warm atmosphere’? Seriously?” he says, turning back to Sans.

“It’s not the first time he’s used that one,” Fuku tells him, now behind the bar, “and knowing him, it won’t be the last.”

Sans just chuckles. He can see the amusement in Red’s eyes. “good to see you too, kiddo. how’s your dad?”

“You tell me,” she counters. “You see more of him than I do, these days.”

“what can i say? he _ lights up _my life.”

“So what can I get for you two?” she asks, pointedly ignoring the pun and looking between him and Red.

“we’ll take a double order of the usual burg’,” he says, grinning a little wider when he hears Red’s half-suppressed snicker.

“Drinks?” she asks, good humor in her tone. She looks to Sans. “You want your usual, I take it?”

“it’s almost like you know me or something.”

“Uh-huh,” she drawls wryly. She turns to Red. “And for you?”

“Water’s fine,” he says.

Fuku nods. “Right. I’ll have that ready for you in a minute.” She leaves, disappearing back into the kitchen.

Sans and Red sit in silence for a moment.

“So..." Red starts.

“so..."

“So.”

“ok.”

“Oh, come on. You invited me to lunch after meeting me on the street, and _ I _have to carry the conversation?” he complains teasingly.

“heh. fair enough,” Sans says. He takes a second to think.

As wrong as it may have been for him to have looked so far into the SOUL of a stranger, it _ did _ give him a pretty solid idea of who this guy is. Sans could probably make fair guesses at everything from Red’s worldviews to his sense of humor (though he supposes he already had a pretty good handle on the latter, given how he met him). So he’s got a basic understanding of him as a person.

But it’s far from a complete image. All the details are missing. Sure, he knows what Red’s like, but that’s _ all _ he knows.

And he’d really like to know more.

Maybe he should start with the basics, then.

“so what brings you to this part of town?” he finally asks.

“I live in the neighborhood,” Red tells him.

“huh.”

“What?”

“nothin’, i just... you don’t see many humans livin’ this far into the monster side.”

“I did notice that, yeah.”

“...and that doesn’t bother you.” It’s not a question; Sans knows the answer.

“Should it?”

He can’t help the way his smile turns a little bitter. “it does _ most _ humans.”

But Red just shrugs. “The rent’s cheap, the people are friendly... As far as I’m concerned, those humans can suck it.”

_ That’s about right. _

“can’t say i disagree.”

Fuku returns with a couple glasses of water and a bottle of ketchup. She places the ketchup near Sans, and a cup in front of both him and Red. Red thanks her before she leaves again.

“been in the area long, then?” Sans asks.

“I moved here just before the start of the semester, so... Tail end of August?” Red says, sipping at his drink.

“you’ve only lived in this neighborhood a month?”

“I’ve only lived in this _ city _ a month,” he clarifies. “Or just over a month, anyway.”

Sans blinks at him. “...you got any family here?”

Red shakes his head. “Not on this side of the country.” He must see the question in Sans’ face, because he continues after a moment. “I came here to study at EUMS,” he explains.

The Ebott University of Magic and Science. “guess that explains the textbook,” Sans muses, nodding at his bag. “monster culture, was it?”

“Yep. Where better to learn about monsters and magic than from actual monsters?”

He hums contemplatively.

That makes a lot of sense. Ebott is the only monster-inhabited city on the planet, and as it stands, EUMS is the only university to employ monster professors. It’s been drawing human students and academics to the city from all over the world since the day it opened, more than half a decade ago.

So why does Sans get the feeling that something doesn’t quite add up?

He doesn’t think Red’s lying to him, but...

The way he’s talking makes it sound like he’s at least a few hundred miles from home. Maybe from anyone he knows, even. And he looks a few years past the age most humans start college; that might imply coming here wasn’t always a part of his plan.

And then there’s his SOUL.

Red SOULs are rare. They’re _ very _ rare. Because although every human is born with a colored SOUL, _ no one _ is born Determined. As far as Sans knows, SOULs can only turn red after a Shift; an event so significant to a person’s life that it changes them on some vital level, right down to the color of their SOUL.

_ Exactly _ the type of thing that would make a person pack up and leave their old life behind.

There’s a story here that Sans is missing.

“What about you?” Red asks, shaking him from his thoughts. “You live in the neighborhood?”

“nah. i’m here checking in on a friend.”

The human’s brow furrows. “I’m not keeping you, am I?”

“i was just leaving when i ran into you,” he says, waving off his concern. “nothin’ else to do today, either.”

Red glances up at the clock on the wall. “It’s twelve o'clock on a Monday, and you have nothing to do for the rest of the day?”

“yup,” he confirms proudly.

“God, that sounds amazing.”

“you say that like you didn’t just agree to go on a spontaneous lunch date with a random stranger, _ at twelve o'clock on a monday.” _

“I mean..." Is he imagining the faint color in Red’s cheeks? “Technically, I should be writing a paper right now..."

“...but ya just couldn’t resist my rugged good looks,” Sans finishes solemnly.

Nope, Red’s definitely blushing now.

_ Perfect. _

_ Time for the trump card. _

Sans closes his sockets and shakes his head. “tsk... another hapless bystander fallen madly in love with me.”

Casually, he reaches into his pocket...

...And pulls out his trusty blue comb.

He looks at Red with half-lidded sockets. “but that’s just the price of being this handsome, i guess,” he says, running the comb’s plastic teeth over his bare skull in the most languid, luxurious motion he can manage.

The scraping sound it makes is clearly audible over the ambiance of the restaurant.

Red stares at him with wide eyes for a second, but then his expression starts to crack, and he breaks into full-on, gasping laughter.

“Wh— What the f-f-_ fuck!?” _ he chokes out between guffaws, his voice strangled and high-pitched. “ _ Wh-Why the h-hell do you _ have _ that?!” _

He sounds like he’s dying.

_ Totally called it. _

Sans beams at Red as he struggles to breathe, entirely too pleased with himself.

Fuku chooses this moment to come back with the food. She sets the plates down on the bar, glancing between his smug grin and Red’s violently-shaking shoulders amusedly. “Which was it this time, the comb or the ketchup?” she asks Sans.

Red stops himself just long enough to blink up at her with an utterly _ baffled _ expression, and then he’s laughing even harder than before, hunching over and holding his stomach. _ “Wha— K-k-k-KETCHUP?!” _

Sans’ grin just widens further. “anyone ever tell you you’ve got great timing?” he asks Fuku.

The elemental chuckles at that. “Enjoy your food.”

“thanks, kiddo,” he calls after her as she walks off.

It takes a minute or two for Red to calm down, but Sans doesn’t mind in the slightest. There’s nothing better than basking in the aftermath of a good joke.

“Hoo, man. That... That happened,” Red says as he catches his breath. He takes a glance at Sans as he runs a hand through his hair, still smiling. “So... Do you just carry that thing everywhere you go, or..."

Sans shrugs.

“Pfft..." Red sputters, chuckling again. “Okay, fine. Keep your secrets.”

He turns his attention to the burger in front of him, studying it critically.

“Okay, I will admit that this does _ smell _ pretty good..."

“just try it. you’ll see.”

“If you insist.” Red picks it up off the plate.

“hey,” Sans says, interrupting him before he can take a bite. “you, uh, want some ketchup with that?” Sans grabs the bottle off the bar, offering it to his new human friend with a grin.

Red pauses, narrowing his eyes at it before looking up at Sans with the same expression. “This is a trap, isn’t it?”

Sans’ smile widens. “whaaaat? no... don’t be ridiculous.”

Red scowls at him. _ “What did she mean when she said ‘ketchup’, Sans?” _ he demands.

Sans just shakes the bottle at him. “c’mon, buddy. it’s _ just ketchup... _ what could i _ possibly _ do?”

Red doesn’t look convinced, but he does slowly reach for the bottle, never breaking eye contact in a motion that reminds Sans of the way a skittish animal might approach offered food.

Gingerly, Red takes it from his hand, and Sans has to try _ so hard _ to keep a straight face when the human then holds it up to inspect it, turning it this way and that in his hands.

Once it’s apparently passed _ that _ test to his satisfaction, he unscrews the cap, glancing at Sans suspiciously as he goes. Sans just smiles innocently back at him. He almost cracks when he notices that Red’s very clearly angling the bottle away from himself as he opens it. It’s a near thing, but Sans keeps it together.

Red visibly relaxes once the cap’s off, as if he’d expected the whole thing to explode the second he got it open.

He squints at it dubiously. “...This isn’t anything that’ll ruin my food, is it?”

Sans can’t help laughing at that. _ “jeez, _ kid, whadda ya take me for?”

“I’m just being safe, okay?!”

Sans holds up both hands in a placating gesture, still snickering.

Red narrows his eyes at him again, but he does finally tip the bottle over his plate, pouring a small amount of the condiment onto his fries.

Sans watches him intently as he picks one up and pops it into his mouth.

The human blinks, first down at his plate, then up at Sans. “It’s _ just ketchup?” _

Sans breaks down laughing. It’s _ too good. _ “what did i tell ya?” he says through his chortling.

Red looks so _ lost. _ “But then why were you acting so—?! Was it just—?! What did she _ mean?!” _

Sans just laughs harder.

He’s really gotta find a way to thank Fuku for giving Red that hint. Now all he needs to do is keep him in suspense.

“don’t worry, kid,” Sans says once he regains control of his voice. “you’ll find out.” He leans in close. _ “when you least expect it.” _

Red glowers at him. “You’re gonna milk the shit outta this, aren’t you?”

“oh, definitely.”

Red sighs dramatically. “Great,” he says. “Now I’ve gotta find _ yet another _ new city to relocate to. Change my identity, dye my hair, start a new life... Oh well.” He turns his attention back to his food. “At least I got a free meal out of all this. Silver linings, you know?”

Sans just snorts good-naturedly. “you’ve only been in town a month, right?” he asks as he watches Red pick up the hamburger again.

“Uh-huh.” Red takes a bite.

Sans grins a little wider. “tried much local food, yet?”

Red starts to shake his head as he chews, but freezes halfway through the motion, something like shock overtaking his features. He looks back down at the burger with wide eyes as he swallows the bite.

“Holy shit,” he says, awe plain in his voice.

“what’s the verdict?”

“This is the best goddamn thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“did i tell you, or what?”

The human grunts unintelligibly around another bite, apparently preoccupied.

Sans just chuckles and shakes his head.

  
  


Red eventually slows down enough to speak again, and Sans spends the next hour getting to know him a little better. Red talks about his favorite classes, his ongoing job hunt, how strange it’s been, getting used to a new city...

(The fact that he mentions nothing about his life before moving to Ebott is definitely not lost on Sans, but he doesn’t call him on it.)

Sans in turn tells Red a few of the better stories from the odd jobs he does to keep busy, and, once Red figures out he’s got a brother, Sans can’t help rambling a little about how cool Papyrus is. Red doesn’t seem to mind.

Eventually, however, the human checks the time.

“I should probably get going,” he says halfheartedly. “I really wasn’t kidding about that paper.”

Sans’ grin starts to fall. “right..."

There’s a pause in which neither of them move, but after a second, Red sighs out a reluctant breath. “I guess I should ask for a check, then.”

“nah,” Sans says. “i got it.”

Red’s brow furrows slightly. “But—”

“hey, fuku,” Sans calls, waving past Red to where the elemental stands a ways down the bar. “go ahead and put the burgers on my tab,” he tells her as she walks over.

“Sure thing,” she replies. “You two finishing up here, then?”

“looks like it.”

He glances back at Red. He’s frowning at him.

“what? don’t give me that look,” Sans says. “it was part of the deal, remember? i’m buying.”

Red keeps it up a second longer before he relents. “Alright, fine,” he grumbles. “But I’m still covering the tip,” he adds adamantly, the look in his stormcloud eyes daring Sans to argue as he pulls out his wallet. Sans holds up a hand in surrender.

Red counts out a few bills, leaving a generous tip on the bar before turning to Fuku.

“And my compliments to the chef,” he tells her. “That was the best burger I’ve ever had, no contest.”

The elemental smiles at him. “I’ll pass it along.”

Sans and Red leave the restaurant, making the short walk back up the street in comfortable silence.

It’s only a few minutes before they reach the corner where they met. They both slow to a halt, knowing that this is where they part ways.

Neither moves to leave.

“Well, this was nice,” Red says after a moment. “Definitely the best experience I’ve had with a stranger I knocked down on the sidewalk.”

Sans grins at him. The statement was phrased as a joke, but he knows Red’s being sincere. “that happen often?”

Red shrugs. “Once or twice. But hey, with how this turned out, I might make it a habit. Could be a good way to meet people.”

Sans huffs out a chuckle. “ya know, red, i can’t see many people havin’ a problem with that.”

Red gives him an odd look. “...Did you just call me ‘Red’?”

He blinks. “i..."

_ That’s not actually his name. _

“sorry. ’s just what i’ve been calling you in my head, i guess. never gave me your name.”

“Oh... Okay, but why ‘Red,’ specifically?” the human presses.

Sans pauses, his mind briefly tripping over the realization that there’s no way in hell he can tell him he invaded his SOUL within minutes of meeting him.

So he goes with the only other thing he can think of:

“your shirt.”

Red blinks at Sans before glancing down at himself.

“‘s a good color on you,” Sans continues. “felt like it fit.”

“Huh...” Red looks surprised, like that answer took him off guard. Enough so that Sans finds himself wondering what he’d been expecting.

The human doesn’t say anything else, and Sans studies his face in an attempt to figure out what’s got him lost in thought. “...i can call you somethin’ else, if you don’t like it,” he says after a moment. “or, uh, just throwing this out there, you could tell me your _ actual _ name. whatever works.”

Red seems to consider this for a moment before that smile of his makes a reappearance.

“You know what?" he says, looking back up at Sans. “I think I like ‘Red.’”

Sans furrows his brow, suddenly afraid that lunch hadn’t gone as well as he thought it did. “...yeah?”

“Yeah.” He must catch the worry in Sans’ expression; his smile fades after a second and he hurries to explain himself. “No, no, it’s not that I’d be uncomfortable giving you my name or anything, really, I just..."

The human trails off, crossing his arms and watching the pavement as he seems to search for words. Sans waits.

“...I’ve only been in town a month, right?” Red says eventually, his voice noticeably quieter than it was a moment ago. He waits for Sans to nod before continuing. “Well, I came to this city alone. I told you I don’t have any family nearby, but I also don’t have any friends here, either. And I’ve been so busy just trying to get my bearings that I haven’t had much of a chance to change that.” He glances up at him, a tiny smile playing on his lips. “Until today, that is. You see where I’m going with this?”

He has a hunch. “you don’t know anybody in ebott.”

“Yeah,” Red agrees. “But more importantly, nobody knows _ me. _”

_ There it is. _ “and you want a fresh start,” Sans concludes.

Red shrugs. “More or less. I came here with nothing but my savings and what I was able to fit into a few pieces of luggage. I have a new apartment, I’m going to a new school, and with any luck, I’ll have a new job soon, too. I’ve got a new life here. Why not start it with a new name? Might as well go all the way, right?”

Sans considers him for a second.

He’d be lying if he said there was never a point in his life where he wished he could do something similar. Where he wanted to leave everything behind and start over, someplace far away. But that was never an option for Sans, and even if it was, he knows he wouldn’t have it in him to actually do it.

As nice as that might be to dream about sometimes, there are people in his life he knows he could never let go of. People who would never let go of him, either.

But this human, with his stormcloud eyes and blazing SOUL...

Does he have anyone like that?

Sans isn’t sure which answer would be worse.

The thought brings an ache to his SOUL, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows Red wouldn’t want to hear it.

So instead he just nods. “can’t argue with that, i guess.”

Red studies him, his smile having disappeared again in the time it took Sans to answer. The human looks away after a moment, down at the curb. “Y’know, Sans... I’ll tell you, if you really wanna know. It’s not a big deal, I just thought... I don’t know. Maybe it was a dumb idea."

“...nah.”

Red blinks at him. “...No? You’re sure?”

Sans shrugs. “yup. and ‘s not a dumb idea. you’ve got a chance at a clean slate here, right? nothin’ wrong with wanting to take it. so.” He meets his eyes. "what can i call ya?"

The human seems to take a moment to process this before he says anything. “...I think being Red might be nice for a change,” he decides quietly.

Sans nods. “welp. then i guess it’s settled.” He lets his sockets close with an easy grin. “welcome to ebott, red.”

Red huffs out a laugh at the cheesy statement, but doesn’t comment.

Still, he doesn’t move to leave or say goodbye. Sans says nothing. He’s got nowhere to be.

A long moment passes before the silence is broken again.

“Thank you.”

Sans looks up to find Red offering him a smile.

Sans has gotten a lot of those out of him over the last couple of hours, but they weren’t quite the same. This one’s softer. A little crooked, maybe, but honest and warm.

He’s got a good smile, Sans thinks.

“Not just for the name thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve had this much fun.”

Sans smiles back as he shrugs his shoulders. “i don’t know, kid. kinda feel like i got the better end of the bargain. lunch with a pun-loving human _ and _ the best burgers in town?” He winks lazily. “‘s a pretty sweet deal, don’tcha think?”

The way Red’s eyes narrow playfully at him tells he made his point.

Sans just grins. “either way, i’ll be looking forward to the next time we bump into each other.”

Red gives him an odd look. “...Seriously?”

Sans furrows his brow, confused. “uh... yeah?”

The human stares at him for a moment before shaking his head. He reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone. Sans watches curiously as he messes with it, but it’s only a second before Red reverses his grip and holds it out to him.

There’s a new contact entry open.

“What, did you think after all that I was just gonna go home and _ hope _ I run into you again? Leaving things up to fate is nice and all, but... I usually like to take a more active approach.”

Sans blinks up at him for a second before his grin is back full force. He takes the phone and enters his number.

Red chuckles at the name Sans gave the contact when he takes it back, and then types something into the device.

Sans’ own phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out.

**(XXX)XXX-XXXX:** Thanks for the meal, bonehead

Red smiles playfully when Sans looks back up at him, and then turns to walk away. “See you around, Sans the Skeleton,” he calls over his shoulder.

“see ya, kid,” Sans calls back.

Sans watches as his new human friend disappears around the corner.

He looks back down at his phone with a grin so wide it feels like it might crack his skull apart. He adds Red’s number to his contacts.

And he can’t seem to help the surge of happiness and satisfaction he feels as he enters the name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There aren't _nearly_ enough multi-chapter gay shipfics in this fandom, for my tastes.
> 
> Well. Not where all the participants _aren't_ skeletons, anyhow.
> 
> **I'm here to correct that imbalance.**
> 
> _...snrk_
> 
> ...Anyway! Did you like it? Did you hate it? Did you find it average and utterly boring? Do you have any predictions or theories? Did you like the original better, somehow? Is it now your personal mission to seek out and destroy me? Did it stop raining just as you finished it, and now there's a double rainbow in the sky?
> 
> Let me know in the comments! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Friendly Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> So um. For those of you who read the comments on these works and happened to check the ones on Chapter 1, I’d like to remind you that “later the same day” still qualifies as “within the next week.” So there. Haha!
> 
> ...On a related note! I’m maybe going to try getting at least one of these chapters out per week.
> 
> _Very maybe._
> 
> I was hoping to have a bit more of a buffer of completed work, just in case, but I’ve got a trip planned mid-October, and I’d like to have most or all of Arc I out before then. And before any of you scoff and say “fat chance” whilst rolling those cold, beautiful eyes of yours, I have just _one_ thing to say to that, and it’s—!
> 
> ...yeah...
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> **Edit – September 28, 2019:** Cleaned up a ton of errors in the HTML formatting! No more odd spaces around emphasized words! (I swear I'm getting the hang of this.)

Red gets home maybe two hours later than he should have, but he couldn’t care less.

The smile just won’t leave his face.

That was fantastic. By far the most fun he’s had since moving here, and with a random stranger he met on the street, no less. He’s gotten the impression that being nice is just a part of the culture around here, but_ that? _

That was something else.

_ Sans the Skeleton. _

Red isn’t really sure what made him say “yes” when Sans asked him to lunch, but he’s glad he did. Sans was hilarious, and friendly, and talking with him just felt so_ natural. _

Red is usually pretty good at making polite conversation. Smalltalk is a skill like any other, and he’s got enough practice exchanging pleasantries with strangers to know how to navigate his way through a chat with one.

But with Sans, that pretense didn’t seem at all necessary.

It was almost as if he_ already knew _Red, somehow.

Like meeting an old friend from another life...

...

Or maybe it was because of the spontaneous pun war they got into immediately on meeting. It makes sense that it’d be an effective ice-breaker. After all, it’s really hard to maintain any kind of formal distance with someone while you’re trying to one-up them with cheesy jokes.

Honestly, Red made that first joke mostly for his own benefit; the most he’d been expecting to get out of it was a polite chuckle, assuming it didn’t just fly under the radar. The fact that Sans (a then-complete stranger) not only caught the pun, but_ responded _with one took him by surprise in the best way possible.

Actually, “pleasant surprise” is a pretty good way to describe the whole encounter, he thinks.

_ Speaking _of which...

The_ burger._

Oh_ god,_ the burger. Red wasn’t exaggerating when he said it was the best thing he’d ever eaten; everything about it was_ unnaturally _good. He’s not sure anything else will be remotely satisfying now. He’ll have to go back to Grillby’s again soon.

But for today, at least, Red has a paper to write. He kicks off his boots and leaves them by the door before moving to sit at his desk.

Still smiling slightly, he spares a second to glance around his apartment as he takes a seat in his workspace. Maybe it’s just his good mood, but he feels unusually contented by the sense of pride that runs through him as he does.

Red’s lived in this place for just over three weeks now, and he couldn’t be happier.

His move to Ebott was about as spontaneous as such a thing can be; he booked a flight to the city as soon as EUMS confirmed their acceptance of his late enrollment application, but that still only left him a little more than a week before the beginning of the semester. He had exactly that much time to prepare and (hopefully) find a place to live.

Searching for a furnished apartment on such short notice wasn’t particularly easy, especially considering his price range, but he managed it. Red found this place the day before the semester started; a small, but very nice and_ very _affordable building on the far eastern edge of the city. He contacted the landlady immediately, and ended up moving in just a few days later.

It’s a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment with a dining room, in-suite washer and dryer, a modest kitchen and a spacious living area, complete with a small bar. It’s even got a balcony. And while the furniture is nothing especially fancy, it’s comfortable and well taken care of.

The desk Red sits at was one of the few things he decided to rearrange when he moved in. The previous tenant had it pushed into the far corner of the room, closest to the front door, but Red moved it to its current position by the big window overlooking the balcony. He always feels much better working under natural light.

Red lets himself linger in his satisfaction a moment longer. This place may not be anything grand or impressive, but it’s_ his. _And it’s better than he could have hoped for.

He shakes his head at his own thoughts, smile still in place. That’s enough getting sentimental over the new apartment for now.

He finally pulls his laptop and textbook from his bag and gets to work.

  
  


Luckily, that paper turns out to be a fairly simple assignment, and it’s all he’s got to do at the moment. With enough focus, he can probably have it done by tomorrow, and it’s not due until the end of the week.

Red works for a couple hours and makes it about halfway through the assignment before deciding to take a short break. He’s about to get up and look for something to snack on when he catches a hint of movement through the window at the edge of his vision. He takes an idle glance out at the source and finds his eyes locking onto a certain monster, currently walking towards the building.

_ Him. _

Red’s seen him around the place a number of times since he moved in. He’s a humanoid monster with vaguely goat-like features; short white fur, backwards-curving horns, and ears that are long and floppy enough to reach his shoulders with length to spare.

That might be where the goat comparison ends, however. His snout is a little too wide to look caprine, and his hands and feet are much closer to paws than hooves—easily visible, since he never seems to wear shoes. In lieu of human hair, a fluffy shock of fur crests his head, and though he can’t see it from this angle, Red knows he has a short, brush-like tail, too. He’s also got a pair of decently-sized fangs on him, as well.

Oh, and he has to be at_ least _six-foot six. And that’s not including the horns.

And yeah, okay, sure. Red will acknowledge that he’s given this stranger he’s never spoken to before a not-quite-normal level of scrutiny. He catches himself staring every time he sees him, and he can’t really explain it, but...

There’s something different about that guy.

Red doesn’t know what it is. Not a goddamn clue.

It’s not that he’s a monster; Red sees plenty of them every day now. He doesn’t think he’s seen any others quite_ like _him, he supposes, but he’s pretty sure that’s not it. Lots of monsters are fairly unique.

No, something just feels_ off _about him. And it’s driving Red crazy.

The closest he’s been to him was when he passed him in the lobby once, he hasn’t done anything strange or suspicious since Red’s lived in the building (that he’s noticed), and nothing about him seems even_ superficially _shifty. Red doesn’t even think the guy’s so much as_ looked _at him funny.

Which could be considered a_ little _out of the ordinary? Red_ is _the only human living in the building, and he’s seen only a scant few of his species around the neighborhood. His first few days here were filled with surprised and inquisitive stares from the other tenants, and even after nearly a month, he still gets the occasional curious look.

But that doesn’t have a lot to do with this. He’s neither paranoid nor narcissistic enough to obsess over someone just because he hasn’t caught them staring at him.

Or so he likes to think, anyway.

Red watches the goat monster amble his way along the path towards the building. He’s got a backpack slung over his shoulder, and there are a couple of books in his arms. Textbooks, looks like. Another EUMS student? Red wonders what courses he’s taking.

The monster’s steps slow for a moment, and he suddenly looks confused. He shifts the books he’s carrying to balance them in one hand, reaching into his pocket with the other and withdrawing his phone. He studies the screen intently as he walks.

Whatever he reads seems to make him smile a little. Red can’t stop himself from guessing at what it could be. He probably just got a notification of some kind and wanted to check it, but it’s a little odd that he would stop to do that while his hands were full. Maybe he was expecting something important? But then why’d he look surprised? What if—

_That _particular train of wild speculation is suddenly interrupted as the distracted monster’s foot catches _just_ _right_ on a lip in the concrete, effectively tripping him.

His eyes go wide and he flails his arms to keep himself from falling entirely. It works, but he drops the books he was balancing in the process. Red winces as they hit the ground with a_ “slap” _he can hear through the window.

Once he’s in no danger of joining them, the beleaguered monster takes a stunned second just to stare at his probably-expensive and now almost-certainly-damaged textbooks, arms still outstretched as if to catch them. Then there’s a brief moment where his posture sags defeatedly, and he glances around the area as if to make sure no one saw what just happened.

Red can’t help smiling sympathetically at the irony of it.

_ Poor guy. _

At least he held onto his phone.

He watches the goat monster pick up his books and hurry on his way before finally prying himself from the window.

  
  


Several hours, a completed paper, and a predictably disappointing bowl of instant noodles later, Red’s on the couch, doodling in his sketchbook when his phone buzzes on the coffee table next to him. He checks the message.

**comic sans:** knock knock

The name makes him grin. He types out a response.

**Red: **Who’s there?

**comic sans: **you deleted my number already? ouch

Red rolls his eyes, smiling despite the joke’s corniness.

**Red: **Laaaaame.

**comic sans: **hey, c’mon

**comic sans: **quit *rib*bing me

That one gets a chuckle.

**Red: **Alright, alright. I’ll throw you a bone.

**comic sans: **lol

**comic sans: **good one kid

He titters quietly to himself, entirely too pleased by the exchange.

**Red:** Thanks.

**Red: **So what can I do for you, Sans the Skeleton?

A minute or two passes with no response before Red realizes that Sans might have just been looking to say hello or tell a few jokes. Friends don’t need to want something from you to send a text or two, right?

...Are they friends? Red really wants to say yes, but it hasn’t even been a full day since they met. Can you call someone a friend if your only interaction with them was a two-hour lunch?

He types out another text.

**Red:** Unless you just wanted to trade puns, that is.

Wait, shit, did that sound sarcastic?

**Red: **Which I’d be totally cool with.

Great._ So _natural.

At least the option’s open now.

And this time, the reply is quick.

**comic sans:** if you’re tryin to seduce me, i’ll tell ya right now

**comic sans:** ...its working

Red blinks at the screen before letting out a surprised chuckle as the tension he’d built up in his head releases.

**comic sans:** but

**comic sans:** i actually do have a favor to ask ya.

Oh. Red’s almost disappointed. Still, he’s curious, and happy to hear Sans out, regardless.

**Red: **Sure. What’s up?

There’s another pause before his phone vibrates again.

**comic sans:** you remember i told you about my bro papyrus?

He does. From the way Sans talked about his brother, Papyrus is quite a guy.

**Red:** ‘Course.

Sans goes silent yet again, and this time Red starts to feel a little anxious. It’s hard to tell through text, but he swears he can_ see _Sans hesitating on his end.

But it’s not much longer before he gets a reply.

**comic sans: **well no pressure or anything but i told him about lunch with you today and uh

**comic sans:** now he wants to meet you

**comic sans: **over dinner at our place on friday?

Well.

That’s not what Red was expecting.

He must take too long to respond, because he starts receiving messages with alarming frequency.

**comic sans:** like i said no pressure

**comic sans:** we just met today and i don’t wanna be a creep

**comic sans:** he’s just really enthusiastic

**comic sans:** its ok if you can’t come

**comic sans:** ill just tell him you’re busy

Snapping out of his surprise, Red scrambles to reply through the barrage.

**Red: **Sans, I’d love to, seriously. It’s just that I have class until 7 on Fridays.

Again, there’s a lengthy pause before his phone buzzes. He picks it back up to see a text from an unknown number.

**(XXX)XXX-XXXX:** CAN YOU DO SATURDAY?

Red blinks down at his phone for a second, uncomprehending. Then it hits him.

**Red: **Is this Papyrus?

**(XXX)XXX-XXXX:** CORRECT! I AM IMPRESSED THAT YOU DISCERNED MY IDENTITY SO EASILY! WELL PLAYED, HUMAN!

Ordinarily, he’d think that was sarcasm, but with what Sans told him about his brother, the message strikes him as sincere. He gets another after a second.

**(XXX)XXX-XXXX:** SATURDAY IS ANIME NIGHT WITH OUR FRIENDS UNDYNE AND ALPHYS! I AM SURE THEY WOULD BE OVERJOYED TO MEET YOU TOO!

**comic sans:** i’m sorry, he woulda found your number whether i gave it to him or not

Red briefly considers if he should be upset over that, but really, what does it hurt? Sans strikes him as an honest guy, and his brother sounds harmless enough. As long as they don’t pass his number around to just anyone, he doesn’t see a problem. He quickly adds Papyrus’ number as a contact.

Anime night, though... He’s not sure how he feels about that. He doesn’t want to intrude, and the only person he’d know if he went would be Sans. And for as much fun as he had with him today, he still just met him_ today. _

It’s true that Red typically knows how to talk to new people, but he gets the sense this would be a little more than just polite conversation. The whole thing is just a little too intimidating.

Maybe he should just decline. Sans did say he’d understand, right?

He types out his response, making up a polite excuse to let Papyrus down with. His thumb hovers over the “send” button.

But he hesitates.

Red finds himself reflecting on the state of his life. He looks back on the last month, and he thinks about how lonely it’s been. Starting over in a new city was one of the most exciting things he’s ever done, but he’s had to do it alone. He’s been successful so far, and he’s proud of that fact, but... He’s known Sans for less than a day, and the skeleton is the closest thing he has to a friend right now.

Maybe it’s time to try being a little more proactive in his social life.

Red feels his resolve hardening as he deletes the unsent message and types out a new one.

**Red: **Saturday’s perfect.

**Papyrus:** WONDERFUL!! I KNEW YOU WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO RESIST THE GREAT PAPYRUS!

**Papyrus: **ARRANGEMENTS WILL BE MADE FOR THE FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI!

_ Friendship spaghetti? _

Does Red’s phone seem to vibrate a little harder when Papyrus texts him?

...He’s probably imagining it.

He opens Sans’ contact again after a second.

**Red:** So. Anime night, huh?

  
  


By the time Red steps off the bus after class the next day, he is_ starving. _He woke up late and had to skip breakfast, and even though he only had one class to sit through, he still found it hard to concentrate past his empty stomach. So when he passes a certain corner on his way home from the bus stop, he naturally can’t fight the urge to take a detour.

Entering Grillby’s for the second time in two days, it strikes him again just how comfortable the atmosphere of the place is. Everything in the restaurant is made of rich wood, and the overhead lights are dim enough that most of the interior lighting comes from the lamps hanging above each table.

But Red feels himself drawing the eyes of many of the other patrons as he makes his way towards the bar, and he doesn’t miss the subtle way that the murmur of conversation quiets slightly as more people take note of his entrance. A few even unabashedly stare at him.

It’s not hard to figure out why; he’s the only human in the room, and he gets the distinct impression that his presence here is a bit of an oddity.

He was the only one yesterday, too, but there were significantly fewer customers then, and it’s possible that he just didn’t notice any of the looks he may have gotten, preoccupied as he was with Sans.

He could challenge them, if he wanted to. Meet their gazes, glare at them until they break eye contact. He knows it would work. The tension in the room isn’t hostile; none of these people are looking for trouble. If Red were to show any sign of aggression, he has no doubt he’d be left alone.

But instead he just pretends not to notice.

They’re only curious. Curious and wary. He can’t really blame them, and although being stared at like this isn’t particularly comfortable for him, there’s no sense in making an ass of himself over it.

Besides, he knew this kind of thing was going to happen from time to time when he decided to move here. All he needs to do is show them that he’s friendly and non-threatening, and they’ll leave him be.

...Probably.

He takes a seat at the bar, claiming the same spot he had occupied yesterday. There’s no one tending it at the moment, so instead of focusing on the numerous eyes on him, he busies himself studying the rather colorful array of bottles on the shelves behind the bar while he waits.

Most of them seem to be either monster drinks or ingredients for mixing monster drinks. He’s heard that monsters have their own take on alcoholic beverages, but he’s not clear on what the difference is between them and their human counterparts.

He doesn’t have time to consider it any further, however, as the fire elemental from yesterday comes walking out of the kitchen. Her color is just as Red remembers it; a bright, fiery orange, in contrast to the green-and-gold flames that shape her.

Red catches her eye almost immediately, giving her a small wave. She looks surprised.

“Hello, again,” he greets her as she approaches, entirely too aware that he seems to have captured the attention of everyone in the room. Still, he refuses to let his discomfort show, though he’s keeping his mannerisms relaxed mostly by way of sheer defiant obstinance at this point.

“...Hello,” the elemental replies. Her voice is a strange fusion of that of a young woman and the crackle of burning firewood. Red can’t help but be intrigued by it. She’s giving him a bit of a confused look, though. Or he thinks she is, anyway; her features are a little hard to make out. “Are you here alone?”

“Yep,” Red replies casually into the deathly silence of the restaurant. “Just me today.”

She blinks at him slowly. “Oh.”

There’s a brief pause. Then she seems to remember herself.

She awkwardly clears her throat (somehow), visibly shaking off her surprise as she tries to recover. “Sorry,” she says. “That was... Very unprofessional of me. I just don’t usually get... Humans generally don’t..."

“Human customers are rare?” Red supplies.

She nods, looking thoroughly embarrassed by now. “Very.”

But Red just chuckles amiably. Or at least he hopes that’s how it comes across. It’s hard not to let his suppressed nerves seep into his laugh, what with the_ crowd of people watching him. _

...Nope.

Not letting it get to him.

“Well, they really shouldn’t be. Your burgers are to die for. But I don’t think we were properly introduced yesterday. Fuku, right?” he asks, offering a handshake. “I’m Red.”

Red takes a moment to mentally high-five himself for not tripping over the new name, marvelling over how natural it feels.

Fuku, meanwhile, stares dumbly at his hand, her chartreuse flames seeming to burn a little less vibrantly as she does. Red waits patiently. This might be a running theme with new monsters.

She recovers quickly, brightening again as a warm (hah) smile blossoms over her features. She takes Red’s hand. Her grip is hot, but somehow not uncomfortable. “Pleased to meet you, Red.”

The tension in the room seems to relax, just slightly, but the silence still deafens him, and he can still feel all those eyes on his back.

He can’t stand being in the spotlight. How does he call out so many overly-curious strangers without being an asshole?

...

Red has a bad idea.

It might work.

But it’d be terrible.

But it_ might work..._

Screw it.

“Likewise,” he replies with a smile. “But hey, could you tell me something, Fuku?”

“...Sure?”

He forces his grin into something devilish. “How’s it feel to be the_ hottest _person in the room?”

Time seems to stop for a moment as the elemental blinks owlishly at him.

“‘Cause you’re positively_ smokin’."_

Red swears he could use a knife to cut through the silence that follows.

...And then he hears several of the other patrons dissolve into very poorly-restrained snickers. One man in the back doesn’t even bother trying to hide it, letting out a few rather loud belly-laughs before one of the waitresses shushes him.

It’s too late though; the noise seems to cause Fuku to finally register that the rest of her customers (and staff, apparently) have been listening in on their conversation, and she turns her narrowed gaze on the rest of the room.

The fact that she’s blushing a bright neon green does nothing to diminish the promise of death in her eyes.

_ “Something funny, guys?” _

Red looks over his shoulder in time to see the collection of eavesdroppers share nervous, guilty glances. Then, seemingly by simultaneous, unanimous agreement, they all turn back to their meals and the murmur of conversation fills the room once again.

...Huh.

It worked.

Red allows himself a small moment of relief before he turns his attention back to Fuku. She’s leveled that gaze at him now, eyeing him warily with her arms crossed as the blush fades from her face.

“I’m really,_ really _sorry,” he apologizes quickly, taking the chance to do so now that they have some level of privacy. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I know that hitting on someone in their workplace is a pretty cruddy thing to do, but..." He grimaces, nodding his head towards the rest of the room. “I needed to make a point.”

Her eyes narrow further, and Red’s about ready to see himself out of the building when she finally lets out a sigh. She brings her fiery fingers up to where he imagines the bridge of her nose to be. “Well, at least now I know why Sans brought you here,” she says. “I swear I’ve heard him use that same line.”

Red chuckles sheepishly. “Ahah... Yeah..."

“I’m not sure whether I should be more upset over the flirting or the fact that you used a pun to do it.”

“Well, I— Um... If it helps, I can promise you that it wasn’t a serious thing?” he tries. “The, uh. The flirting, that is.”

Fuku raises an eyebrow, looking him up and down, and a spike of anxiety runs through him as he realizes that may not have been the best thing to say.

“No, no, not because— It’s not that— I just— It’d, um. It’d be barking up the wrong tree, for me,” he stammers.

“...Because I’m a monster, you mean,” she states, something quiet and dangerous behind her words.

Red’s eyes widen, and he can feel himself starting to panic as the conversation plummets rapidly downhill. “No! Nothing like that! It’s not— I don’t have— Look, I just—”

Recognizing that he’ll never get a full sentence out if he keeps going like that, he cuts himself off and buries his probably-bright-red face in his hands. He takes a deep breath. Fuku doesn’t say anything, apparently willing to hear him out.

“I’m gay,” he says after a few seconds, lowering his hands to the bartop so that he can look at her as he does.

She gives him a strange look. “You’re...?” Then realization seems to dawn on her._ “Oh! _You mean you’re not attracted to—”

“Women, yes,” Red finishes for her, his cheeks heating up again. This is not a conversation he’d walked in here expecting to have. “Of either species.”

“Right, okay. Wow. I’d almost forgotten how complicated all that is for you humans.”

Now it’s Red’s turn to look confused. “Sorry?”

“Nothing, it’s fine,” she says, brushing off the question. “But let me get this straight; you just used an embarrassingly bad pickup line on me—someone you’re not at_ all _attracted to—in front of a restaurant full of people,_ just _because you wanted to expose their eavesdropping?”

“Basically?” he confirms sheepishly, abashed by hearing how dumb it sounds spelled out like that.

“Why didn’t you just call them out on it?” the elemental inquires.

“...I didn’t want to be rude...?”

Fuku starts laughing at him.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time!”

“It_ did?_” she asks incredulously.

“Okay, well, no, but—”

She laughs harder.

Red just sighs and buries his face in his hands again. He might have been a little more put off if her crackling laughter didn’t sound so cool.

But she does get a hold of herself eventually, and she regards him with a thoughtful grin. “Y’know what? I think I like you.”

Red peeks out from the space between his fingers. “You... do?”

She nods, seemingly amused by his confusion. “Yep.”

He furrows his brow, willing her to explain.

She takes the hint. Her features might soften_ just _a bit as she speaks. “It’s not every day I meet a human willing to enter my restaurant alone. It’s even less often that I meet one who would offer me a handshake. And if I heard you right just now, it sounds like you were willing to risk making a fool of yourself in front of everyone in here just to avoid being a little rude to a bunch of random monsters.”

Red looks down at the bartop, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I don’t know if I’d put it like_ that..."_

“I would,” she says. There’s a finality to the statement that he doesn’t have an argument for. “Besides. Sans seems to like you, and I trust his judgement.”

He’s not quite sure what to say to that.

“...Thanks,” he says awkwardly, deciding that maybe it would be best to just accept the compliment.

Fuku only snorts. “So. What can I get for you?”

Red blinks up at her vacantly. “Uh..."

Then he remembers that he’s currently talking to the barkeeper of a restaurant, which he entered with the intention of buying food. Because he’s_ starving. _

“A burger would be fantastic,” he says, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice as his hunger abruptly returns to him.

“Same one as last time?”

“Yep.” He might have asked for a menu under normal circumstances, but his stomach is telling him that doing so would take_ far _too long. Besides, if it’s as good as the one he got yesterday, he’ll be more than happy with it.

“Anything to drink?”

“Water’s fine.”

“Perfect. I’ll have that for you in a few minutes,” she crackles, turning back towards the kitchen.

“Thanks,” he calls after her.

Luckily, he only has to sit in ravenous agony for less than ten minutes before Fuku returns with his food. He manages a quick “thank you” before shamelessly tearing into the hamburger.

_ “Ohmygod,” _Red groans around a mouthful of beefy goodness._ “It’s even better the second time.” _He wolfs down a few more bites before he can make himself slow down. He glances up at Fuku, who’s started wiping down the bar nearby. “I don’t know how much you’re paying your fry cook, but it_ can’t _be enough.”

She chuckles, a sound filled with the cracks and pops of a bonfire. “We get that a lot. He’s got a real talent for fire magic.”

Red’s eyes widen as he swallows another bite. “Is_ that _how he makes these?”

“Yep. Most of the food we serve is made and infused with magic.”

“That’s so_ cool!” _he marvels.

Who’d have thought his first experience with magic would be an enchanted burger?

  
  


The rest of Red’s lunch passes fairly quickly. He finishes his burger and chats with Fuku, who mostly sticks around tending the bar.

The feeling of being watched never fully vanishes, and he knows he’s still attracting a number of curious looks from the other patrons, but his stunt was at least_ mostly _successful. Still, it’s not like he expected everyone to stop completely, and at least they’re being subtle about it now.

He’s certain that Fuku’s presence is doing a lot on that front, too. It seems like most of the monsters here respect her enough not to openly listen in on her conversations. Which does make some sense; Grillby’s is definitely the type of place that would attract a lot of dedicated regulars.

He’s pretty sure it’s just attracted itself one more, after all.

The idea is a little exciting to him. Grillby’s is maybe a ten-minute walk from his building, and it’s not far from the bus stop he uses. It’d make a great place to grab lunch on his way back from class.

Besides, he likes Fuku, and he feels like he might die if he doesn’t get one of those burgers regularly.

And hey. The people here’ve gotta warm up to him eventually, right?

Right.

Red’s food is long gone by the time he realizes how long he’s lingered in the restaurant. He’s just been talking with Fuku for the last half hour, and the lunch crowd mostly seems to have filtered out, by now.

He sighs reluctantly. “Alright, well. This has been great, but I think it’s about time I head home.” He takes out his wallet and withdraws enough money to cover the meal, plus a generous tip. “Thanks for chatting with me.”

“My pleasure,” Fuku says. She sounds like she genuinely means it. Red can’t help but return her smile. “Come again sometime, will you?”

Red grins. “I wouldn’t worry about that.” He turns and heads for the door. “And tell your cook to keep up the good work,” he calls over his shoulder. “The man is an_ artist.” _

  
  


Eating at Grillby’s becomes routine for him over the next few days. Every day, he stops by after class to grab a burger, which, to his_ immense _delight, never seem to get any less delicious. He makes sure to leave his compliments to the chef each time, feeling a deep, profound need to make sure the man knows how amazing his food is.

The bar isn’t usually very busy around lunchtime, leaving Fuku free to talk with him, for the most part. Normally he’d think she was just being a good hostess, but something about his conversations with her rings sincere. He talks easily about adapting to life in Ebott, his classes, and his ongoing quest to find a job. She in turn tells him a little about herself, as well as a number of oddball stories from her profession the likes of which only an experienced bartender could tell.

She also points him towards a local coffee shop, currently looking to hire. She knows a couple monsters who work there, apparently, and both have nothing but good things to say about the owner.

“I’m sure those two would like you just fine, if you got the job. But I’ll warn you now, they can be a little, ah... Energetic, sometimes,” she tells him.

Whatever_ that _means.

She doesn’t elaborate, and Red doesn’t press, already deciding to apply for the job anyway. He’s not in any position to be picky, and he’s sure he can deal with whatever they might throw at him.

But that aside, by the time he leaves Grillby’s on Friday, Red feels like he might actually be able to call Fuku a friend.

The thought makes him happy.

The same is also true for Sans, whom Red’s been texting throughout the week. They talk about how their days went, make jokes, and (once Sans picks up on Red’s nerves) what to expect on Saturday night. The way Sans describes his friends does do a little to set Red’s mind at ease, and he trusts him when he says that there’s nothing to worry about.

Which is kind of an odd thought, isn’t it?

Red’s known Sans less than a week, and they’ve only met in person once, but he really does trust the skeleton. Part of him keeps saying that he hasn’t known him long enough, and that what he’s doing is dangerous, but the rest of him...

The rest of him is sick of doing the safe thing.

Red’s spent his entire life being “safe” before coming here, and he has nothing but regret to show for it. Taking some risks might be exactly what he needs.

So when Saturday finally rolls around, Red still feels nervous, but he’s also determined. Determined to take a chance, to be outgoing, to have some fun. Determined to be the kind of person who won’t be controlled by their fears and trepidations.

...And determined to make a good first impression. Which is why he’s spent almost two hours going through his closet, trying to find an appropriate outfit.

It’s anime night, right?

That’s... What? Comfy casual?

Yeah.

...

_ He’s got nothing for that! _

_ Why are all of his shirts button-down!? _

Don’t panic, it’ll be fine.

He can just run to the store quickly to pick up a t-shirt or something. It can’t be_ that _late, he still has to have an hour at_ least _before he needs to—_FUCK it’s three thirty! _

Oh god,_ he’s out of time! _

Okay.

Okay, calm down. It’s fine. He’ll just have to wear one of his_ least _formal shirts.

He takes his umpteenth scan though his wardrobe before pulling out a plain, wine-colored shirt.

He studies it for a moment before deciding that it’ll work. Might as well live up to the new name, right? He’ll just unbutton the cuffs and roll up the sleeves or something.

He pairs it with his most comfortable blue jeans and the only pair of sneakers he owns before stepping in front of the mirror to examine his handiwork.

...It’ll do.

Hopefully it doesn’t look like he tried too hard.

(Because he_ totally _did.)

Red glances again at the clock, figuring it’s about time to leave. Sans told him that they usually start around four thirty, and the address he gave him is about forty-five minutes away. Leaving now should give him plenty of time to spare. He grabs his wallet and keys, texting Sans that he’s on his way as he walks out the door.

When he passes through the lobby, however, he can’t help but notice a certain white-furred stranger checking his mail. Red’s pace slows as he walks past him. He’s been catching glimpses of the oblivious monster all week, but he hasn’t gotten quite this close to him. He still hasn’t figured out why he can’t seem to stop staring at the guy, but he’s still not getting any danger signals, either.

The monster doesn’t seem to have noticed him. Maybe he should say “hello”? Red might figure it out if he just talked to him. He veers towards him.

His phone vibrates in his pocket.

**comic sans:** ok. see you soon.

Sighing internally, Red pockets his phone again as he changes course to walk past the goat monster. He’s starting to realize that_ he _might be the weird one in this situation.

Besides. He doesn’t have the time to indulge his fixation tonight.

He’s got places to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOooooOOOOOooooh, who ARE you, o Mysterious Stranger?! 
> 
> I wOnDeR wHo He CoUlD bE?!
> 
> Just kidding it’s Asriel.
> 
> It’s Asriel, he’s the primary love interest, and both of those things are in the tags now.
> 
> _Surprise!_
> 
> Red’s Goat Trash!
> 
> (He just doesn’t know it yet.)
> 
> ...Anyway! What’d ya think of Red’s first PoV chapter? Was he relatable? Was he boring? Have you had enough of the puns already? Were you _actually_ surprised, and I just ruined Asriel’s secret identity for you? Had you not in any way suspected that the _real_ ship was Red/Asriel? Are you as ready as I am to use the ship name “Razzy”?
> 
> Hah! As if _that’s_ possible!
> 
> Let me know in the comments anyway, though! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. SPAGHETTI IS MADE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> Looks like you’ve been visited by the Update Fairy!
> 
> Golly, isn’t that something?
> 
> Happy reading!

Red’s a bit early.

It really didn’t take him as long as he thought it would to get here. He was on the bus for just under half an hour, and he found the address pretty quickly from the stop. He hopes they don’t mind.

What Red can see of the exterior of the Skeleton brothers’ home tells him that they must do pretty well for themselves. It’s a two-story house that’s not too big, but certainly not small, with a two-car garage and a rather spacious lawn. The flowers lining the path to the porch look like they grew there naturally without looking unkempt, and the hedges around the perimeter of the property are similarly immaculate.

It’s a look that fits very well into the relatively upscale neighborhood the house is situated in. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say that it’s the nicest-looking home on the street, either.

But what surprises Red is that this neighborhood is distinctly on the_ human _side of the city. Granted, it’s not all that far from the unofficial border where the two sides meet, but it’s far enough that he sees very few signs of bleed-through between the cultures.

Far enough that he hasn’t spotted any monsters since he got off the bus, at least.

It’s not really a problem, per se. It’s just not what he expected.

And after a month of living in_ his _neighborhood, suddenly being surrounded by humans again without a single monster in sight is a little...

Well...

It’s_ weird. _

And also kind of unnerving, if he’s being honest with himself.

Should that worry him? It feels like something that should worry him.

Whatever. He can stew over the implications of that later.

As he makes his way to the door, however, Red feels eyes on him. Glancing around, he finds an old woman peering at him from the porch of the house next door.

He gives her a polite smile. She doesn’t smile back, instead quickly returning her focus to her... Hold on, is she_ knitting?_ Oh no, she _is. _This little old lady is_ actually _sitting in a rocking chair on her porch with a ball of yarn and a pair of knitting needles, just working away at it.

He snickers quietly to himself.

He bets her purse is filled with hard candies and expired coupons.

It’s a struggle, but Red manages to drag himself back to reality just as he reaches the front door of the Skeleton household. He hesitates.

This is it. The moment of truth. He takes a deep breath to steel himself, then gives it three solid knocks.

Or he tries to.

The door very abruptly swings open halfway through the third knock, and before he can register what’s happening, a huge blur of white and orange streaks out of the house, lifting him off his feet and into a back-cracking embrace.

“HUMAN!” yells a loud voice from very close by.

“Ack!” Red says at the same time.

“I’M SO HAPPY TO FINALLY MEET YOU!” the voice continues, apparently oblivious to his sudden disorientation.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for Red’s senses to start catching up to the situation. Going by the pair of long, boney arms currently wrapped around him and the absence of the ground beneath his feet, he seems to be pinned against the chest of a very tall skeleton. One who appears to be wearing something hard and metallic. Armor?

_ Ah. _Some part of Red’s brain that isn’t still reeling puts it together.

“You must be Papyrus,” he chokes out.

The skeleton in question squeezes Red a little tighter (_“hurk” _) and begins shaking him left and right in his arms, increasing the hug’s enthusiasm density by at_ least _seventy percent.

_ Soon he’ll collapse into an extremely excited black hole, _Red’s utterly_ daft _brain provides._ And then all will be lost. _

“I HAVE HEARD_ SO MUCH ABOUT YOU _AND YOUR COMICAL REACTIONS TO JAPERY AND YOUR EPIC QUEST FOR EMPLOYMENT AND YOUR UNFORTUNATE BUT PROBABLY ENDEARING SENSE OF HUMOR AND YOUR LAUGHTER WHICH SOUNDS LIKE YOU’RE GRAVELY ILL BUT IN A GOOD WAY SOMEHOW, AND—”

“bro?” interrupts a much quieter, somewhat strained voice from inside the house. Red recognizes it. “maybe put ‘im down? pretty sure humans need to breathe,” Sans chuckles nervously.

The tall skeleton gasps loudly, and then Red’s feet are on the ground again.

He sucks in a breath and fights to keep his balance for a moment as Papyrus takes a step back from him. He blinks away the spots that had begun to appear in his vision and looks up at the monster in front of him.

Yep. He’s definitely wearing a breastplate. And a bright orange scarf of some sort. Or is it a cape? And are those hotpants?

He grips Red’s shoulders and bends until he’s at eye-level, giving him his first good look at the monster. He has a lovely shade of deep forest green. Red immediately decides he likes him.

Papyrus is inspecting him with a very concerned look, however. “HUMAN, DID I BREAK YOU?”

The question is absurd, and he sounds so distraught over it that Red can’t help but chuckle. The sound comes out a little more breathless than normal. “Nope. I’m good.” Maybe emboldened by the recent oxygen deprivation, he reaches up to wrap his arms around Papyrus’ chest while he’s still bending down, giving him a proper hug. “And it’s nice to meet you too, Papyrus.”

“NYEH HEH HEH!” he cackles, hugging Red back much more gently this time. “OF COURSE IT IS. I AM VERY GREAT!”

“hey, paps?” Sans says from somewhere beside him, leaving Red to wonder how he got around his brother. “weren’t you gonna be cooking something?”

Papyrus gasps again, releasing Red as he does. “THE TOMATOES!” he yells before sprinting back into the house, gone just as quickly as he appeared.

Red blinks at the now-empty doorway. Talk about mental whiplash.

“sorry about that.”

Red looks at Sans, who’s now standing next to him on the porch. His color is exactly the same as he remembers it; a cool, clear cyan.

“he’s been pacing by the door since i told him you were on your way. if i knew he was gonna do_ that _i woulda tried to stop him,” he says. He almost sounds embarrassed.

Red takes a second to absorb this, throwing a thoughtful, lingering glance at the still-open front door that Papyrus had vanished through. Then he turns back to Sans, meeting those fascinating, worried eye lights with a solemn expression.

“He is amazing, and I love him,” Red states, voice adamant and completely,_ deadly _serious.

Sans blinks his bony sockets at him just once (an action which still baffles Red) before he barks out a single surprised laugh. “you—? you mean that.”

It wasn’t a question. Red answers him anyway. “Of course I mean that. I’ve been stressing myself out over meeting the guy all week, and he just made all that seem completely pointless before I could even finish knocking.” He pauses, glancing back towards the door again. “Plus, anyone who can pull off a look that pairs hotpants with plate armor is A-okay in my book.”

Sans snorts. A look of relief crosses the skeleton’s face, and Red realizes that Sans might have been just as worried about making a good impression as he was. “told ya there was nothing to worry about.”

Red smiles down at him. “Yeah. You did.”

Sans meets Red’s gaze with a smile of his own, and the two share a small moment of contentment.

But something’s bothering Red. He knows what he wants to do here, and it feels like the right move to make, but he’s not completely, one-hundred-percent sure it’s appropriate.

His conflict must show on his face, because Sans furrows his boney brow at him after a second. “...something wrong, kid?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he says quickly. “I just... I’m not, ah..."

...

“Aw, screw it.”

Red takes a quick step towards Sans, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around him. Sans stiffens in surprise for a bare second before he relaxes, returning the gesture.

He huffs out a quiet chuckle. “glad you could make it, red.”

He smiles over Sans’ shoulder, relieved that he hadn’t made him uncomfortable. It’s true that Red’s known him for less than a week, and that they’ve only met in person once before, but with the way they’ve been texting, he’d think they were old friends. And yeah, that might just be his loneliness talking, but he’d like to believe otherwise. He’ll admit he was excited to be able to see his new friend again so soon, and he’s happy that Sans seems to feel the same way.

“it woulda been a shame if you couldn’t_ squeeze _us into your schedule,” he says, breaking Red from his reflection with a literal squeeze of his arms.

Red narrows his eyes. “Sans.”

“i’m happy our plans_ held _up.”

Oh, Red can just_ hear _that smug grin of his. “Really, dude? C’mon, don’t ruin the moment,” he complains.

“just_ embrace _it,” the bastard says through the barely-contained laughter now shaking his shoulders.

Red huffs, ending the hug and pushing himself off of the still-chuckling skeleton. He glares at him, but the effect is ruined somewhat by the dumb grin threatening to spread over his face. “Well, Sans, congrats. You did it. You ruined the moment, ya heartless monster.”

The skeleton raises his brows at him, clearly amused, before taking a pointed glance down at himself. His_ skeletal, monster self. _

Red blinks slowly as the sheer lack of thought behind his statement sinks in. “Uh... Hmm.”

Sans just breaks down laughing again. The sound is rumbly and infectious, and after a second, Red cracks and joins him.

But the chance to banter any further is lost, however, as they’re interrupted by Papyrus’ voice loudly calling from somewhere inside the house. “SANS? HUMAN? DID YOU GET LOST ON YOUR WAY TO THE KITCHEN AND/OR FALL ASLEEP SOMEWHERE IMPROBABLE AGAIN? WELL, DO NOT PANIC, WAYWARD GUEST AND LAZY BROTHER! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL COME TO YOUR TIMELY AND_ HANDSOME _RESCUE! JUST FOLLOW THE SOUND OF MY VOICE!”

He then begins saying “NYEH” repeatedly in an impressively rhythmic fashion.

“comin’, paps!” Sans calls back, his mischievous grin now replaced with something fond.

Red mirrors the expression, embarrassment completely forgotten. “Is he always like this?”

“papyrus only has two settings, and ‘off’ isn’t one of ‘em,” Sans confirms proudly.

“What’re the settings, then?” he asks, taking the obvious bait.

“‘on’ and ‘ᴏɴ’.”

Red tries and fails to suppress a few very undignified snorts, snickering at what could only have been Sans’ impression of the younger skeleton. It was surprisingly accurate, too, sounding just like Papyrus’ voice might if it were... Smaller?

Smaller feels like a good word for it.

Sans looks proud of himself. “we might wanna head inside before he comes looking for us,” he says.

“Gotta admit, I’m pretty curious to see the inside of Château Skeleton,” Red replies with a smirk.

“gesundheit.”

Red just snorts again as he starts moving towards the door.

He doesn’t make it far before he feels eyes on his back again, however. He looks back at Sans’ elderly neighbor to find her glaring daggers at him, vitriol and disgust in every line of her face. This time, she makes no effort to hide her staring.

Red’s smile fades, and his steps slow to a halt.

He can_ feel _the hatred oozing off of her, toxic waste escaping to poison the world around it, and it’s not hard to figure out why she’s looking at him that way.

Red knows bigotry when he sees it.

A cold sort of outrage flares inside his chest, and he meets the malice in her gaze with the ice that hardens in his own.

_ Who is _she_ to judge? _

He’s not sure what his expression looks like, but it’s enough to make her falter. She breaks eye contact.

A bony hand rests on his shoulder.

“red.”

Sans’ voice, firm but gentle, cuts through the spell. Red’s scowl eases a little as he looks down at his friend.

There’s the ghost of something old and tired in the lights of Sans’ sockets. “let’s go inside, kid,” he says quietly. He glances at his neighbor. “’s not worth your time.”

Red follows his gaze in time to watch the venomous woman retreat into her house, shutting the door behind her.

He takes a breath, releasing it slowly as he lets the pall that came over him dissipate.

“Yeah,” he murmurs after a moment. “I... Yeah. Sorry.”

Sans meets Red’s eyes again. “you got nothing to apologize for, red,” he tells him. Then a little life returns to his expression. “now c’mon. my bro’s_ cookin’ up _something special for ya.”

Red feels a small smile work its way onto his face. “...Is it friendship spaghetti?”

Sans’ grin brightens visibly. He shrugs. “it might be.”

Red huffs out a chuckle. “I still don’t know what that means,” he says, starting for the door again.

“guess you’ll just have to find out, then.”

Neither of them spare another glance at the neighbor’s house as they cross the threshold, following the voice of Sans’ still-”NYEH”-ing brother.

Red’s pretty sure he likes the inside of the Skeleton brothers’ home just as much as the outside. The furnishings are a little disjointed, but he thinks that just adds to the charm; each piece looks comfortable and well-loved, giving the whole place a lived-in feeling that he finds very appealing.

The walls of the entryway are covered in photos, featuring the Skelebros (yes, he’s_ definitely _calling them that) and various other monsters.

He sees a lot of different faces, some showing up more often than others. A lizard monster with glasses and yellow scales, a blue fish woman with a barracuda-like smile and crimson hair, an orange fire elemental and a smaller green one that can only be Fuku.

Then his eyes scan over a pair humanoid goat monsters, and he nearly trips over his own feet as he double-takes.

White fur, backwards-curving horns, long and floppy ears, fangs...

Huh.

A few thoughts flash through Red’s mind very quickly.

First and most obvious is that, barring a few details, the two monsters in question look just like his mystery monster.

Second, just because they bear a striking resemblance to him doesn’t mean they’re related. Yes, there are a huge number of monster subspecies, but individuals in a given subspecies are not always related. It might mean nothing, and he’d be wrong for jumping to conclusions.

Third, they’re pictured next to the Skelebros (as well as the fish and lizard monsters), and both of them have at least a foot over Papyrus. Which means that they’re both either_ very _tall, or they’re standing on something out of frame.

Given their proportions, though, Red’s willing to bet on the former.

And finally... They’re strangely familiar?

Aside from their resemblance to his mystery monster, that is. He means the two of them, specifically. He doesn’t_ think _he’s met them, but...

Were they on TV at some point?

Red furrows his brow. He can’t remember.

Sans might know. He could just ask.

He tears his gaze from the photo, prepared to do just that—

But then his eye catches on_ another _face. This time one he’s_ sure _he recognizes.

“Is that Violet?” he asks.

Sans, now a few paces ahead, turns to blink at him. “huh?”

Red points to a picture of Sans and Papyrus surrounded by a family of rabbit monsters. Sans seems to be holding the camera, angling it towards his face so all that’s visible of him is most of a cheerful eye socket and the corner of his grin in the right of the frame. Papyrus, meanwhile, is posing spectacularly, flexing his nonexistent muscles with a self-assured grin, looking completely unfazed by the three giggling rabbit children literally hanging off of him. Violet stands off to the side, one paw over her smile and the other crossed over her stomach, shoulders hunched as she laughs. They look happy.

Sans examines the photo briefly, his grin softening as he does. “yeah. me and vi go way back.” He glances up at Red. “you know her?”

“She and her family run the inn I stayed at while I was looking for an apartment,” Red tells him thoughtfully. “A couple days into my stay, she found out I was going to be attending EUMS and hadn’t found a job or place to live yet. Told me I’d only be paying half her normal rate for the rest of my stay, and wasn’t having any of it when I tried to decline. She’s way too nice.”

“heh. must like you.”

Red only hums in response. His eyes find the picture again, and the corners of his mouth tug upwards at the warmth of it. “Small world, huh?”

Sans shrugs, still grinning as he glances meaningfully at the many dozens of photos lining the wall. “eh. think i’d be more surprised if you’d met a monster i_ didn’t _know.”

Red snorts. Sans seems to take that as his cue to continue leading him to the kitchen, and after a final glance at the collection of captured memories, he follows without complaint.

But his mind lingers, however, Sans’ statement replaying in his head.

There were a lot of different faces in those pictures. Maybe more than can really be part of a tight-knit group. But even so, he could see the history in every scene on that wall.

Sans doesn’t just “know” all those people. They’re his friends. Friends close enough to have earned a clear place of honor in his home.

And Red...

As he follows Sans on the short walk through the house, past so many photos filled with life and happiness...

Red starts to feel out of place.

It’s only a moment before they reach the living room. Red assumes this is where they’ll be watching anime, if the huge flat-screen television and the couches arranged around it are any indication. The wall opposite the TV opens up into a bar and archway leading into the kitchen, where Red can see Papyrus laying various items on the counter as he continues to “NYEH.” The far wall is taken up almost entirely by panoramic windows and a sliding glass door leading to the back yard, through which he can see a moderately large pool and hot tub.

_ ...Can skeletons even swim? _

“AH HAH!” Papyrus shouts suddenly from the archway, apparently having moved there on noticing their presence. “YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT LAST! WELCOME, HUMAN..." He puffs out his chest and steps to the side, sweeping an arm into the kitchen in a clear and grand invitation. “TO MY DOMAIN!”

Red can’t help grinning at the skeleton’s impressive bravado. “Thanks for having me,” he says as he steps into the kitchen. He eyes the ingredients and utensils laid out on the countertop.

Uncooked spaghetti, onions, garlic, a neatly-stacked pile of tomatoes, and a number of assorted spices, among other things. Definitely the ingredients for spaghetti marinara. Which, of course, leaves him with a question.

“So... It looks like you’ve got the ‘spaghetti’ half covered.” He glances up at Papyrus curiously. “How’s the ‘friendship’ come into play?”

Papyrus beams down at him. “BY PREPARING IT AS A TEAM, OF COURSE!”

Red blinks, not entirely certain how that possibility hadn’t crossed his mind.

Papyrus seems to take his lack of response as confusion. The skeleton strikes a dramatic pose—sockets closed, confident grin, one hand on his hip and the other on his sternum—and begins to explain. “WORKING TOGETHER TO OVERCOME THE TRIALS OF CRAFTING THIS DELICIOUS PASTA DISH, YOU AND I WILL FORM AN UNBREAKABLE BOND THROUGH WHICH WE WILL FIND THE STRENGTH TO FACE ANY OBSTACLE, AND DISCOVER THE TRUE MEANING... OF_ FRIENDSHIP.” _

His cape flutters in a non-existent breeze as he speaks.

Distracted by it and the many questions it raises, it take Red a moment to process the energy of Papyrus’ declaration.

The decidedly_ anime _energy.

Feeling a little lost, he glances at where Sans now sits at the bar. The smaller skeleton simply smiles and winks at him.

Hmm.

Okay then.

He’s not sure what to expect from cooking with Papyrus at this point, but he’s not about to let the big guy down. And hey, it_ is _“anime night,” after all._ When in Rome_, as the saying goes.

Red squares his shoulders and gives Papyrus a decisive nod. “I’m in.”

“NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!” he cackles. “EXCELLENT!”

“So!” Red starts, clapping his hands together. “What’s first?”

“I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED, HUMAN! DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE PEELING THE TOMATOES? I’VE ALREADY BLANCHED THEM; THE SKIN SHOULD COME RIGHT OFF.”

He grins. “I’ll give it my all.”

Red moves to the counter and begins peeling the tomatoes. He can’t claim to be a very skilled cook (or even an average cook, honestly), but he knows how to handle a kitchen knife well enough that work this basic is still within his capabilities.

Papyrus, however, could_ very believably _claim to be a skilled cook. When Red hands him the first freshly-skinned tomato, he removes the seeds and has it chopped into neat little chunks within seconds of Red having the next ready. Still, he doesn’t seem to mind the difference in their skill levels.

Sans remains at the bar, though, working his way through a crossword puzzle he produced from somewhere and cracking jokes whenever the opportunity arises. He apparently doesn’t have quite the same passion for cooking as his brother (“i just don’t see the a_peel,” _he explains).

Still, conversation comes easily to the three of them as Red and Papyrus prepare the sauce. Papyrus, for one, is happy to regale Red with stories of his job at the Wishbone, a local bistro where he (quite appropriately) works as head chef.

Red listens to the towering skeleton’s tales intently. It seems that even ordinary events become dire challenges and heroic triumphs when seen through the lense of the Great Papyrus, making him a uniquely entertaining storyteller. And hearing him describe the day-to-day of working in his kitchen the same way one might recount the feats of an Arthurian knight, Red can’t help but be a little envious of Papyrus’ enthusiasm.

“Well, you’ve definitely got_ me _outclassed,” Red muses. “My knowledge of cooking is about at the level of ‘usually manages not to overcook the scrambled eggs.’”

“EVERYONE HAS TO START SOMEWHERE!” Papyrus assures him. “EVEN ME! YOU MAY FIND THIS HARD TO BELIEVE, HUMAN, BUT THERE WAS A TIME IN MY LIFE WHEN I WAS A WORSE CHEF THAN EVEN YOU!”

Red makes a show of pursing his lips in contemplation before he shakes his head. “Not possible.”

“IT’S TRUE!” Papyrus insists, ignoring Sans’ snickering. “FOR ALL MY GREATNESS, I KNEW NOTHING OF THE CULINARY ARTS BEFORE UNDYNE STARTED TRAINING ME.”

“Undyne gave you cooking lessons?” Red asks, curious.

He nods, his smile turning nostalgic. “YES.” A faraway look enters his sockets. “IN FACT, IT WAS HOW WE BECAME THE BEST OF FRIENDS! AFTERNOONS SPENT MAKING SPAGHETTI TOGETHER, SO MANY YEARS AGO..."

Red searches the skeleton’s face silently for a moment before his eyes find the cutting board in front of him. The one he’d been using to crush cloves of garlic the way Papyrus had shown him, just a few minutes earlier.

He hadn’t been listening, before. He was too distracted by the way Papyrus explained it to really absorb what he was saying.

But as the weight of the implication sinks in, and as he finally realizes why Papyrus seemed so excited to make spaghetti with him...

Red suddenly finds his throat tightening as he blinks back tears.

He couldn’t even say_ why_. He doesn’t know if it’s because of how absurdly_ heartwarming _the very idea of it is, or if it’s because of the completely inarguable sincerity behind it, or...

Or if it’s because he can’t remember the last time anyone so_ plainly _wanted something as simple as friendship from him.

He does his damnedest to not let anything show. He can’t make a fool of himself in front of his hosts, not over something so...

_ So_...

“...HUMAN?”

The concern in Papyrus’ voice shakes him out of wherever that thought was headed. Red takes a short, quiet breath and clears his throat, fully aware that his voice is going to come out audibly choked up. “Sorry, I just..."

It’s as he’s searching for an ending to that sentence that he remembers something; a phrase Sans used when Red asked him about his brother during their lunch at Grillby’s. He doesn’t think he understood exactly what he meant by it until just now.

It makes him smile as he looks back up at his tall, skeletal friend.

“You’re, ah... You’re a really cool guy, you know that?”

Papyrus looks surprised for just a moment before grinning bashfully, a look Red was pretty convinced he’d never see on the monster. “NYEH HEH... I, ER... I MEAN! YES! OF COURSE I KNEW THAT! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS AND ALWAYS HAS BEEN THE COOLEST OF GUYS!!”

Red just chuckles quietly.

He doesn’t acknowledge the way Sans is looking at him.

“So, um... Undyne must be a pretty good chef herself, then, if she taught you how to cook.”

“WHAT? OH, NO, UNDYNE IS A_ TERRIBLE _CHEF. NOTHING WE EVER MADE CAME OUT EDIBLE. I DIDN’T ACTUALLY LEARN TO COOK UNTIL A FEW YEARS LATER.”

Red blinks up at him for a single dumbstruck second before he bursts into laughter.

It’s a minute or two before he manages to calm himself down. The fact that Papyrus kept anxiously asking Sans if he was _“ABSOLUTELY SURE”_ that the human wasn’t actually dying didn’t help him reign it in at all, either.

But Red does eventually get himself back under control, and the spaghetti adventure resumes.

Of course, he can’t help asking for the details of Undyne’s cooking lessons. Apparently, at the time she had told Papyrus that it was special warrior training he needed to undergo in order to join the illustrious Royal Guard, which Red learns Undyne used to captain. It wasn’t until a couple years later that she admitted the truth of it; no matter how tough he was, she just couldn’t stomach the idea of sending someone so kindhearted into combat.

Red can’t say he blames her for that decision in the slightest, but he's a little surprised that Papyrus doesn’t seem to hold it against her, either.

“WELL, I WILL ADMIT I WAS A LITTLE DISAPPOINTED WHEN I REALIZED SHE’D LIED TO ME..." he says when Red voices his confusion. “BUT WHAT IS THERE TO BE UPSET ABOUT? SHE MIGHT NOT HAVE LET ME INTO THE ROYAL GUARD, BUT SHE_ DID _GIVE ME SOMETHING BETTER! A FIERY PASSION FOR COOKING... AND A LIFE-LONG FRIEND!”

Red just smiles.

After that, Papyrus asks him how he’s been settling into the city, and he finds himself talking about how well things have been going for him so far. How happy he is with his apartment, how interesting all of his classes are, even how nice it’s been just having lunch at Grillby’s everyday this week (Sans looks a little smug at that, and though Papyrus doesn’t comment, Red swears his grin twitches slightly).

Still, their work goes by quickly, and it’s not long before the sauce is finished and simmering on the stove.

Red settles into the seat next to Sans as Papyrus puts the pasta on to boil, an easy smile on his face. The process wasn’t quite as pulse-pounding as Papyrus made it out to be, but he still doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed himself so much doing something as mundane as making spaghetti.

Maybe the secret is in the right company.

_ KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. _

The harsh sound makes him jump. Papyrus whips around, and Sans looks up from his crossword.

_ “Papyrus!” _calls a rough, muffled voice from outside._ “Open up!” _

“THEY’RE HERE!” Papyrus shouts before bolting towards the door. “_SANSWATCHTHESTOVE!” _

“got it, bro.”

Red lets out a breath.

_ Right. _

He nearly forgot about the other two people he’d be meeting today. Undyne and Alphys, a couple of close, long-time friends of the Skelebros.

He feels like he should be a little more nervous about that, but...

He glances at the pot of freshly-made marinara sauce bubbling on the stovetop.

...Somehow, he thinks it’ll work out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my poor, sweet Red... 
> 
> “It’ll work out” doesn’t mean quite the same thing as “it’ll go well.”
> 
> ...Anyway! Are you ready for Undyne and Alphys? What did you think of _Papyrus’_ debut? Was he as Great as all Papyri should be? Do you agree with Red’s “cool guy” conclusion? Do you, too, get emotional when you look at marinara sauce? Have I let you down, and now to write him better I have to spend seven years “NYEH”-ing atop a mountain in Tibet, until I achieve Nyenlightenment? Did you just choke on your carbonated soft drink, and _now_ it’s your personal mission to seek out and destroy me?
> 
> Let me know in the comments! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Anime Night... Start?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! Here’s Chapter 4! ;D
> 
> Like! A week late! ;D
> 
> Yeah, so it turns out preparing for a two-week trip overseas takes some time out of a guy’s schedule. Also I had a Super Amazing Genius Idea of Ultimate Greatness halfway through writing this chapter, and I had to spend a few days exploring it.
> 
> Oh me, oh my! What’s a goat to do?
> 
> Anyways! Fair warning; this chapter’s a bit of a left turn, if you know what I mean.
> 
> (And if you _don’t_ know what I mean, I mean it gets a little heavier than the last few. Very quickly. And with great force.)
> 
> Happy reading!

“HI, UNDYNE AND ALPHYS!”

Red stands from his seat and puts on a smile as Papyrus’ shouted greeting echoes clearly from the other room.

“I’M SO GLAD YOU COULD MAKE IT! AND WITH SUCH GREAT TIMING, TOO!”

The response is too faint to understand, but he thinks it sounds vaguely disgruntled.

“THE HUMAN? YES, HE ARRIVED EARLY! _ FASHIONABLY _ EARLY! WE JUST FINISHED PREPARING THE SPAGHETTI TOGETHER, IN FACT!”

_ “WHAT,” _ comes the reply, this time as loud as Papyrus himself. Red’s smile falters slightly.

“I _ KNOW! _ IT’S SO EXCITING!” Papyrus says, apparently oblivious to the outrage in the newcomer’s tone. “HE PERFORMED VALIANTLY, REMAINING COMPLETELY UNDAUNTED IN THE FACE OF HIS CLEAR INEXPERIENCE. TOGETHER, WE FOUGHT SIDE-BY-SIDE IN OUR BATTLE FOR CULINARY EXCELLENCE, AND BY MY EXPERTISE AND HIS UNWAVERING RESOLVE, THE PASTA CAME TO A SOUND AND _ OH-SO-SATISFYING _ DEFEAT. NOW COME IN! I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO MEET HIM!”

Red glances at Sans as Papyrus ushers the newcomers into the house. He doesn’t look back, instead staring at the doorway with a nervous expression as sweat beads visibly on his skull.

That’s probably not a good sign.

Red doesn’t get a chance to think it through any further, however, as Papyrus comes in with two monsters in tow. He recognizes them from the photos in the entryway.

The first is the fish woman with the red hair, currently pulled back into a ponytail. A simple black eyepatch covers her left eye, and she’s wearing jeans, a gray tank top and combat boots. She also looks much bigger in person, maybe a few inches taller than even Papyrus. She’s got a strong, sunny yellow to her, a stark contrast to the scowl on her face.

This must be Undyne; even her body language is dripping with a casual sort of formidability, and he has no trouble believing she could have held a title like “Captain of the Guard.”

So then the second of the new arrivals must be Alphys. She’s the yellow lizard monster, though now that Red’s gotten a proper look at her he thinks “dinosaur” or “drake” would both be better comparisons. She’s around Sans’ height, if a little taller, and she’s wearing a deep green ankle-length dress. There’s a smart pair of glasses perched on her snout, and her color is a sharp chartreuse green.

She looks anxious, if her pinched expression is anything to go by. Red gives her a smile when he catches her eye (despite the knot now forming in his own stomach), but that just seems to make it worse.

“HUMAN!” Papyrus exclaims. “ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE YOU TO OUR GOOD FRIENDS, UNDYNE AND ALPHYS!” He gestures first to the fish monster and then to the drake as he speaks. Alphys glances anxiously between Papyrus, Undyne, and Red, while Undyne glares off to the side, her expression darkening further. “UNDYNE, ALPHYS, THIS IS OUR NEW FRIEND, HUMAN RED!”

Despite the many alarm bells now ringing in his head, Red swallows his nerves and gives them what he hopes is a convincing smile. The tension in the air is impossible to miss, and there’s clearly some kind of problem here, but there’s no sense in being impolite. “Just Red’s fine,” he says, moving forward to offer Undyne his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you two. It’s nice to finally meet.”

The way Alphys flinches in his peripheral vision tells him that this was not the right move to make.

Undyne doesn’t accept the handshake, just glances between him and his extended hand, her single yellow eye narrowing slowly. Red’s smile quickly grows brittle as one second turns into two, and then two into four, the awkwardness of the situation rapidly increasing.

“U-Undyne—” Alphys squeaks just as he’s about to crack and back off.

“What’re you playing at, human?”

Red blinks at her, still holding out his hand. “Um. Sorry?”

She sneers at him, revealing a set of irregular, wickedly-sharp teeth. “I _ mean, _ why are you really here? What are you after?”

He can suddenly feel himself suffocating under the animosity in her eye. “What am I...? I’m not... I don’t—”

“Oh, you don’t _ what? _ Know what I’m talking about? Tch. _ ‘Course _ not. Listen, _ human..." _ She leans in close, using her height to loom over him menacingly. “I don’t know what kind of game this is to you... _ But I’m not gonna play it.” _

“undyne, that’s enough.”

Sans’ tone is hard, but she just turns her scathing glare on him.

“Why did you even _ invite _ him? Anime night’s always been just close friends and family!”

“I WAS THE ONE WHO INVITED HIM, UNDYNE,” Papyrus tells her, clearly trying to diffuse the situation despite the unease in his voice.

“Yeah, because your brother wouldn’t shut up about him!” she retorts, glancing at him briefly before turning back to Sans. “You don’t even _ know _ this guy! He’s just some random human you met on the street!”

Sans looks surprised at that, but he doesn’t get the chance to respond.

_ “Yeah. _ Papyrus told me about that. You had _ one _ lunch with him. A lunch where he tells you that he, a _ human, _ just moved to town, _ right _ into the deepest part of the monster side, and then won’t say a _ damn thing _ about who he is or where he came from! And you don’t think that’s even a _ little _ suspicious!? He’s gotta be up to something!”

_ “wow. _ that is some _ serious _ paranoia you’ve got going, there.” There’s an edge to Sans’ voice Red hasn’t heard there before. “yeah, he’s human. so what? that doesn’t make him an _ enemy.” _

“That doesn’t mean he’s _ not, _ either! You don’t know anything _ about _ him, Sans! And here he is, in your house, making fucking _ spaghetti _ with your brother!”

The tension in the room spikes even higher at that. Papyrus’ expression hardens slightly, and something dark flashes through Sans’ sockets. “my _ brother _ is an _ adult, _ undyne. you of all people should know he can take care of himself. and red wouldn’t be here _ at all _ if he wasn’t trustworthy.”

_“What makes him trustworthy!?_ For fuck’s sake, Sans, ‘having good judgement’ is in your _job description!_ But this human, who—again—you know _nothing_ _about,_ tells you a few stupid jokes, and you start acting like he showed you his goddamn—!”

Undyne abruptly cuts herself off with a blink. Her eye widens slightly, and the frustration on her face melts into something like disbelief as she stares at the suddenly-very-sweaty skeleton.

“...You _ didn’t. _"

Sans doesn’t answer. He breaks eye contact in the ensuing silence, his usual grin pulling downwards into a grimace.

A fresh scowl forms on the fish monster’s face as she looks between Red and Sans. “Sans, _ buddy, _ I need a word with you,” she says, her tone anything but friendly. _ “Alone.” _

Sans winces, inasmuch as a skeleton can wince. He glances at Red for a second before meeting Undyne’s seething expression. “...alright.”

That seems to be all the confirmation Undyne needs. She grabs him by the arm and all but hauls him out of the room, leaving Red alone with Papyrus and Alphys.

⁂

Undyne doesn’t stop until she’s dragged him into his study on the other side of the house.

She releases his arm and whirls to face him. “Sans, what the _ hell?!” _

“it was an accident,” he says quickly. He really wasn’t expecting to have this conversation today, let alone with Undyne, but there’s no use lying to her at this point. He just has to explain himself and hope that she doesn’t tell Red what he did. He _ really _ doesn’t want that.

_ “You looked into his SOUL!” _ she whisper-shouts, obviously trying to keep quiet. At least she seems willing to hear him out. “How does that happen _ ‘by accident’!?” _

“...okay maybe ‘accident’ was the wrong word,” he admits. “but i really didn’t mean to go as far as i did.”

“Why were you looking in the _ first place!?” _ she growls dangerously.

He grimaces. “okay, look. on monday, i bump into red on the street. literally; he knocks me down. but he doesn’t get mad or anything. just asks if i’m alright and helps me up. then we get to talking, and... i liked him. i just wanted to know what color it was.”

“Sure. And then what? You just _ tripped _ and fell deeper in? I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure _ that’s not how it works.” _

Sans starts to make a retort, but stops as he considers it. “...kind of?” Undyne narrows her eye at him, and he struggles to find the right words. “no, you’re right, that’s _ not _how it works, usually, but... there’s something about his soul. i got one look at it, and..."

He pauses as the crystalline memory of Red’s fiery SOUL fills his mind, the image of it so flawless and clear that he can almost feel it thrumming.

“it was red, undyne,” he says, voice low. “really, _ really _ red. he’s got the most determination i’ve ever seen in one person, aside from... aside from the kid. and even then, it’s close.

“but it was his resonance that did it. never felt anything like it. i don’t think i could even tell you what made it different, just that there was something to it that made me..."

He doesn’t finish his sentence, and his gaze drifts to the floor as he pushes the memory aside.

“i got drawn in.”

He can feel Undyne watching him in the silence that follows. “...How deep?”

Sans glances back up at her. She’s giving him a hard look, but it doesn’t carry the same smoldering rage it did a few minutes ago.

He lets out a quiet breath. “color aside, i got his stats, his secondaries, and... i stopped myself before i saw anything specific. no thoughts or memories, nothing like that. but i got far enough to get a pretty good idea of what kind of person he is. how he thinks, what drives him..."

“...And he has no idea.”

It wasn’t a question, and Sans doesn’t offer an answer.

Undyne studies him silently for a long moment. The steel in her gaze never softens, but he can see her weighing his words in her head.

The irony of the situation is not lost on Sans as he awaits her judgment, and he suddenly feels very tired.

“he’s got a good soul, undyne,” he says quietly. “i really think you’d like him, if you gave him a chance.” The statement sounds defeated, even to him.

She says nothing.

“are you gonna tell him?”

“...You like him that much, huh?”

Sans looks away, doing his best to keep from turning blue at the question. “it‘s not like that.”

_ “Sure _ it isn’t.”

She crosses her arms and takes a few seconds to think. Her tone is a little harder when she speaks again.

“You know you fucked up here, right?”

“...yeah.”

“That little skill of yours is a seriously scary thing, and everyone’s trusted you not to misuse it. Could you imagine what Toriel would do if she found out about this?”

That actually makes him flinch. “yeah, i... i know.”

Undyne just eyes him for a second before looking down at the carpet. “But this human... You looked into his SOUL, and now he means something to you, doesn’t he?”

This time his skull definitely starts to heat up. He doesn’t answer.

She watches him for another moment before she nods. “So I’ll tell you what. I’m not gonna say anything. But if he decides to stick around, you’ve gotta tell him what you did by the end of the year. It was _ his _ SOUL you invaded, and _ he _ should be the one who gets to choose whether or not to forgive you.”

Three months.

That gives him three months.

“...alright.”

“Promise me, Sans.”

He grits his teeth. She knows he hates making promises.

Then again, it’s not like he really has much of a choice.

“i promise i’ll tell him.”

Undyne nods again, apparently satisfied. “Good.”

With that conversation behind them, a small moment of silence passes between them.

“now, uh. can we talk about how you just threatened and insulted the innocent human me and papyrus invited into our home?”

Sans gets the satisfaction of watching Undyne freeze as the tables abruptly turn on her.

He stares her down. Undyne can be stubborn sometimes, but she’s got to understand the implications of what he told her. He saw Red’s SOUL; knows the truth of who he is, down to a basic level. That’s one hell of a solid reason to trust him.

Her shoulders sag after a moment, and she lets out a breath. “Fuck.”

“uh huh.”

“I gotta apologize, don’t I?”

“yup.”

Undyne sighs heavily and rubs her forehead with her fingers. “Alright, fine,” she grumbles. She turns to leave the room.

“not so fast, bud,” Sans says.

She stops, but doesn’t turn to face him. “I get it, I was wrong. But if you’re planning to chew me out over it, I can tell you _ right _ now, I’m _ not _in the mood.”

“...nah. i just wanna know what’s up.”

Now she does turn to look at him. “What?”

Sans watches her face carefully. “look, i get that we don’t have the best track record with humans, and ‘decorum’ isn’t really part of your vocabulary, but i know you, undyne. you might be a hothead sometimes, but you don’t go around being bitter and vicious to people for no reason. not unless there’s something eating at ya.”

Undyne breaks eye contact and looks off to the side for a long moment, and when she meets his eye lights again it’s with an expression devoid of her usual fire and energy. Instead, she just looks tired.

It’s an expression so out of place on his friend that it takes Sans off balance. The bone of his brow creases as a pit of worry forms in his SOUL.

“Later. Alright?”

Sans studies her face, but he gives her a nod after a second. If she doesn’t want to talk about it, there’s no sense trying to pry it out of her.

She turns to leave again, and this time Sans doesn’t stop her. The two of them return to the living room in silence.

And they come back to a distressed Papyrus and a _ very _ anxious Alphys.

“uh... paps?” Sans asks, glancing around the room. “where’s red?”

⁂

Red is at the bus stop.

He’s been there for a few minutes, his face in his hands as he tries very hard not to make a scene. The fact that there’s no one else around is beside the point.

He ran away.

He didn’t even try to defend himself. Nothing she said was true, Red _ knew _ that, but he just froze under her immediate and _ tangible _ hostility. He hadn’t expected things to go so wrong so quickly. So he ran.

Both Papyrus _ and _ Alphys had tried to stop him, but he was embarrassed and fighting back tears, and... He couldn’t stay there. He couldn’t even _ look _at either of them. So he just said “I’m sorry” and thanked Papyrus for making spaghetti with him before he all but sprinted out the door.

He feels like shit. He doesn’t know whether to be angrier at himself for fleeing like that after Sans and Papyrus had been so kind to him, or... Or for accepting the invitation in the first place.

Coming here was a mistake. The four of them had known each other since their time in the Underground, it was stupid of him to think he could just squeeze his way into their night like this with no problem. He let himself get caught up in the Skeleton brothers’ optimism, and now...

Papyrus sounded so upset when Red left. The tall, bubbly skeleton followed after him as he hurried to the door, trying to get him to stop. He even called his name.

_ HUMAN! RED, PLEASE WAIT! _

And Red just shut the door on him.

And _ Sans. _ Sans defended him, and Red didn’t even say goodbye. But it’s too late to go back now, after leaving like that.

Tears start to sting at his eyes again.

_ Goddammit. _

He fights to push them back down. He refuses to cry at a bus stop.

Red is jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

_ Shit. _ He was really hoping not to have an audience. He sniffles once and quickly wipes at his eyes with his hands before he looks up. “Sorry, I..."

There, standing a few feet from the stop, is Undyne.

A tiny bolt of irrational panic surges through his heart before he really takes her in. She’s still frowning, but it’s not aggressive like her earlier scowl. This one’s more contemplative, and... Ashamed, maybe?

She’s not looking at him; her eye is locked onto the concrete a few feet in front of the bench, instead.

“...Hey,” she says, glancing at him briefly. “Is this seat taken?” She gestures to the space next to him on the wide-open bench.

Some juvenile part of him wants to say “yes,” but he restrains himself. He can recognize the regret on her face; she didn’t come here looking for a fight.

So he shakes his head. “A-all yours,” he croaks, wincing at how strained his voice sounds and quickly turning his gaze away in a weak attempt to hide his embarrassment.

Undyne pauses at that, but she does slowly move to sit next to him, as if trying not to startle him. It might have been funny if that wasn’t a valid concern at the moment.

Neither of them look at each other, and they sit in tense, awkward silence for a minute or two before she finally speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

Red turns to look at her. Her eye is trained on the trees planted by the sidewalk across the street, watching the leaves rustle in the wind. “You didn’t deserve any of the things I said back there,” she says quietly. “I had a bad week, and I took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair of me.”

Red considers her for another moment before his own eyes move to the trees as well. Birdsong twitters through the air and his hand finds the center of his chest, idly seeking the familiar shape that hangs beneath his shirt. It’s not long before he comes to a decision.

“What happened?” he asks. Undyne glances at him, confused. “It was a bad week, right?”

That seems to surprise her, but it fades into uncertainty after a second. She looks away, down at the bench.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but if it’s bothering you that much..." He trails off, suddenly a little unsure. “Well. I don’t know you, but for me... Things never seem quite as dark after I’ve said them out loud.”

Now it’s her turn to think in silence for a minute as she stares down at her hands. Red waits.

Eventually, she starts, her rough voice low and subdued.

“I teach a few self-defense classes at a gym downtown. Great as it is to be on the surface, it can be a dangerous place for us monsters, and... Well, I wasn’t Captain of the Royal Guard for nothing. Figured I could do some good, showing people how to defend themselves. I started picking up some human students too, eventually, but I don’t go easy, and I’ve only met a few of you guys brave enough to sign up.”

A ghost of a smile crosses her features when she says that, but her expression quickly fades back into something stormy.

“But last week, one of my most committed students doesn’t show up for a lesson. Didn’t think much of it at first, but then he misses the next one, and the one after that. So I try calling him, and... His mom picks up. Tells me he’s in the hospital after being attacked on the street.”

“Oh God, attacked? Is he okay?” Red asks.

“He’s alive and recovering,” she says. “But he’s still in pretty rough shape.”

“That’s awful... Do they know who did it?”

Undyne nods. “Caught ‘em in the act. Humans, three of them. They were chasing someone else; some kid on his way home from school. That’s when Harry—my student—shows up. Distracts those assholes long enough for the kid to get away and find help. If the cops hadn’t gotten there when they did..." She trails off, leaving the implication to hang heavily in the air.

“I’m so sorry,” Red says quietly.

She snorts out a single, derisive laugh, and her face twists into a bitter smile. “Yeah, you and me both. ‘Cause he wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for me.”

Red says nothing. Just watches her face as she stares ruefully down at the concrete.

“For years now, I’ve been teaching these classes, and in every one of them, I’ve made it a point to tell my students that what they learn from me comes with responsibility. I said it before, right? Life on the surface may beat the hell out of the Underground, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe. So I tell all of my students to use what I teach them not just to defend themselves, but also to protect _ others, _ too.

“‘Stand together, help those in need, defend the people you care about,’ garbage like that. ‘Cause I can’t teach _ every _ monster how to fight, right? Might as well teach the ones that I can to help each other out.

“Except you know what? _ I’m not Captain Undyne anymore, am I!? _ I’m _ supposed _ to be teaching people how to protect themselves, not training _ soldiers! _ I shouldn’t be telling people to put themselves in danger! And if I’d remembered that sooner and stopped pushing that crap onto my students, Harry might not have tried to play hero! Might not have gotten himself beaten within an inch of his life."

Red’s silent as he considers this. “Maybe,” he says after a moment, choosing his words carefully. “But if he hadn’t stepped in, that kid would have gotten hurt, or worse.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“...Harry isn’t a monster. Is he?”

Undyne looks up at him, surprised. “How did you...?"

“Lucky guess. Something in your expression when you were talking about how brave your human students are.”

She studies him for a second. “...Yeah, he’s human.”

Red nods. “Well, I’m not one of your students, and I can’t speak for the way you teach, but... It seems to me like you’ve been telling people to step up and help each other in dangerous times. And I don’t think that’s ‘crap.’”

She eyes him silently.

“And your student, Harry. He isn’t a monster; these aren’t _ his _ dangerous times. And he still chose to step up and fight for the life of a complete stranger.” He pauses, thinking over his next question. “Do you think he regrets that?”

She lets out a long, quiet sigh, and her eye once again finds the trees. “...No.”

“Then it doesn’t sound like he was ‘playing’ hero. It sounds like he _ is _ a hero. I can’t imagine many people would have the courage to do what he did. I doubt I would. You should be proud.”

Undyne doesn’t look back at him, and she’s quiet for a while longer, but...

A very small smile works its way onto her features.

“...He broke one of their jaws.”

“Must’ve put up a hell of a fight.”

That smile stretches into something Red thinks looks much more appropriate on her, though there’s still a certain sadness behind it. “Damn right he did.”

Something that feels suspiciously like a comfortable silence falls over them for a long moment before it’s broken again.

“...Thank you, human. I, uh... I think I needed to hear that.” She glances at him. “And, um... I really meant it when I said I was sorry.”

Red gives her a smile of his own. “Eh. Don’t worry about it. You wanna start over?”

“Huh?”

He holds out his hand. “Hey. I’m Red. Nice to meet you.”

Undyne blinks at him just once before a huge grin spreads over her face. She takes his hand and gives it a _ very _ firm shake. He tries not to let the wince show. “Undyne. And it’s nice to meet you too, punk.”

She lets him go and stands with a grunt, stretching a little once she’s on her feet.

“Now we should probably head back. You had everyone pretty worried, taking off like that.”

Red hesitates. He was so wrapped up in Undyne’s story that he’d almost forgotten why he was here to begin with.

He can’t just _ go back _ after leaving the way he did.

...Can he?

Undyne must notice his turmoil. “Aw, c’mon. Sans’ll kill me if I go back there without you.”

“I..."

She narrows her eye at him. “Paps’d be heartbroken if you left without trying the spaghetti,” she warns.

Red’s mind automatically tries to imagine a heartbroken Papyrus, and—

_ Nope! _

Can’t handle that.

Red fights with himself a second more, but he knows she’s won. He grunts frustratedly, but swallows his pride and stands from the bench. _ “Yeah, _ alright.”

“That’s the spirit!” Undyne cheers, flashing another toothy smile. “Now, uh. Seriously, let’s get going before Sans comes looking for us.” She turns on her heel and starts walking.

Red hurries to keep up. Her legs are just... _ so _ much longer than his, and he almost has to jog to keep pace with her.

“So..." She starts after a minute. “What do you think of them?”

“Sorry?”

“The bone bros, I mean.”

He blinks up at her, confused by the unexpected question. But he thinks on it anyway. “Well... I can’t say I’ve known them for very long, yet, but..." A smile works its way onto his face. “Papyrus, for one, is just _ so _ cool. The only thing we’ve actually done together so far is talk and make spaghetti, but he’s so positive and sincere, I... It feels like he’s already my friend.”

“He’s got that effect on people,” she agrees fondly. “...And Sans?”

There’s something in her tone Red can’t quite place; he’s got the distinct impression that his answer here is an important one.

Best to be honest, then.

“I met Sans less than a week ago, but I feel like I’ve known him for years. Something between us just kind of... clicks, I guess. The first thing we did on meeting each other was get into a pun battle.”

“Yeah,” she says, rolling her eye. “Papyrus might have mentioned that.”

But Red just shrugs. “You can tell a lot about a person by their sense of humor. I can respect someone who appreciates that kind of corny joke.”

Undyne hums a noncommittal, but Red doesn’t miss the smirk on her face. “What?”

“Eh. It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t believe her, but doesn’t press.

The rest of the short walk passes in silence, and it’s not long before they’re back in front of the Skelebros’ house. Red hesitates for just a second before he follows Undyne up the path to the porch, past the huge Jeep in the driveway that must belong to her. She goes to try the door—

But it abruptly swings open before she can reach it, and before Red registers what’s happening, a huge blur of white and orange comes barreling out—straight at him.

His eyes barely have time to widen before he’s swept off his feet and into a very familiar back-cracking embrace.

“RED!” yells a voice from very close by.

“Papyrus,” he wheezes in response.

“YOU CAME BACK!”

“paps, we talked about this,” comes Sans’ voice.

Papyrus sucks in a sharp breath before gently setting Red back on his feet. “SORRY,” he says, keeping his hands on his shoulders to steady him.

“It’s fine,” he says with a chuckle.

“HUMAN, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

The seriousness in his voice takes Red off-guard. He hesitates.

“ya had us pretty worried there, kid,” Sans says, walking into Red’s line of sight from behind the larger skeleton.

Guilt stabs at his chest, and it’s suddenly difficult to meet the lights of Sans’ eyes. “I... Yeah. Sorry. I shouldn’t have run off like that.”

“you don’t need to apologize, red. you’re not the one in the wrong, here,” he says, looking past him to where he knows Undyne must still be standing.

Red shrugs (which proves slightly difficult, considering Papyrus still hasn’t released his shoulders). “Maybe. But it doesn’t really matter now anyway. We’re good.”

“REALLY!?” Papyrus shouts.

“really?” Sans asks at the same time, only with much more skepticism.

“Yep. We talked it out.” He looks at Undyne over his shoulder. She’s got that grin on her face again. “Still think I’m up to something?”

“Nope!”

“Well, then it’s settled,” he says, turning back to the Skelebros. “All’s forgiven, water under the bridge, bygones be bygones... You know. No hard feelings.”

“DOES THAT MEAN YOU’RE STAYING?” Papyrus asks.

Red falters slightly, and he glances between him and Sans. “Well... If you’ll have me?”

But Sans just grins back at him. “‘course we will, kid. we’d have to be _ heartless monsters _ to turn you away after all that.” He winks lazily as he says that.

Red gives him a flat look. Sans starts snickering.

“I FEEL LIKE I’M MISSING SOMETHING,” Papyrus says, looking between the two of them.

“don’t worry about it.”

“Still. I’m just glad I’ll get to try the spaghetti we worked so hard on.”

“NYEH HEH HEH!” Papyrus cackles, releasing Red’s shoulders to strike another confident pose. “I KNEW YOU COULDN’T RESIST THE ALLURE OF COLLABORATIVELY PREPARED PASTA! _ SPEAKING _ OF WHICH! THE NOODLES ARE READY! HUMAN, WOULD YOU CARE TO HELP ME PUT THE FINISHING TOUCHES ON OUR CULINARY CREATION?”

Red grins up at him. “I’d be delighted.”

“EXCELLENT!”

That established, Papyrus turns and dashes back into the house, presumably straight to the kitchen.

“HEY!” Undyne yells from behind Red, making him jump. “Can I help!?” She races in after him. “PAPYRUS!?”

Once his surprise wears off, Red finds himself smiling contentedly at the open doorway they disappeared through. That was the first time Undyne’s showed that kind of energy since she arrived, and... Though he couldn’t really explain why, he feels like he’s just caught his first glimpse of the real her.

“red.”

Red turns to Sans, who’s still standing on the porch next to him. The skeleton is studying him, his eye lights searching his face.

“you sure you’re okay?”

Red just looks at him for a moment.

This monster—this short, punny monster Red’s known for less than a week—_ actually _ seems to care about his happiness. And that...

That, if nothing else, is proof that coming here wasn’t a mistake.

Red feels his expression soften as he meets Sans’ lights, and he swears he sees a faint tint of blue appear on the skeleton’s cheekbones before something makes him look away.

“...Yeah. Like I said, we worked it out. She apologized and told me why she blew up like that. I meant it when I said I forgave her.”

Sans watches Red a second longer before he nods. “alright, then.” He starts turning towards the door.

“And Sans?”

He glances back at Red.

Red gives him his best smile. “Thanks.”

Sans doesn’t seem to know what to say, and this time Red’s certain he’s turning a little blue.

And then Red steps past him into the house, and starts making his way back to the living room.

When he gets there, he finds Alphys crouched in front of a little black box of some kind under the TV. Must be whatever they use to watch anime.

She looks up with a start when she hears him enter. The smile she gives him is probably meant to be polite, but really just looks painfully nervous. Red makes his best attempt to smile back non-threateningly.

He glances towards the kitchen, where Papyrus and Undyne are loudly arguing over what constitutes “enough cheese,” but... He hasn’t properly met Alphys, yet. He approaches her carefully.

“Hi,” he greets her.

“H-hi,” she stutters out, fiddling with her claws.

Oh, Red can just _ feel _ the anxiety radiating off of her. She must not do very well in tense situations.

He tries to think of something to say to help her relax. Papyrus had mentioned that anime night was her idea, maybe he should ask what they’ll be watching tonight? He decides to try it.

“So, uh—”

“I wanted to apologize,” she blurts out before he can say anything else. Her eyes widen when she realizes she cut him off. “S-s-sorry! I d-didn’t mean t-to—!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says calmly. “I’m not mad.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep, slightly shaky breath, visibly forcing herself to calm down. She nods after a second. “S-sorry.”

“It’s no problem,” he tells her. “You said you wanted to apologize?”

She hesitates for a moment, but then her back straightens slightly, and she meets his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t s-step in while Undyne was... y-yelling. She was out of line with w-what she said, and you shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

Red gives her a small smile. “Thanks. But I don’t hold it against you. I’m just some random human to you, I can’t blame you for not sticking your neck out for me.”

“W-well! It’s true we don’t know each other... But Sans and Papyrus trust you, and I trust them. That should c-count for something.”

“I..."

_ They trust him. _

Red breaks eye contact briefly as that thought takes him off balance, but he quickly blinks himself out of it. He doesn’t dwell on it.

“Um. Alright, well, how about this, then?” he says after a moment. “I know we haven’t really been formally introduced yet, but I’ll offer you the same deal I offered Undyne. I’ll accept your apology, and then we start fresh.”

Alphys gives him a bit of a puzzled look. Red just smiles warmly and offers his hand to her.

“Hi. I’m Red. Pleased to meet you.”

She stares at his hand for maybe half a second before she takes it, a smile of her own working its way over her snout. “I’m Alphys. And it’s really nice to meet you too.”

Red chats with Alphys for a while longer, having decided to leave finishing the spaghetti to Papyrus and Undyne. They don’t seem to mind, preoccupied as they are with each other.

Alphys tells him that she and Undyne have been together since the Barrier fell, having gotten married a year afterward. He learns that she works at (and indeed helped found) EUMS, pulling double-duty as both a professor and a research scientist. Apparently, she specializes in robotics, engineering and SOUL mechanics, a topic Red can’t help but be intrigued by.

The concept of literal SOULs isn’t new to him; the fact that “souls” really do exist was the biggest revelation monster kind brought with them when they emerged from the mountain (aside perhaps from “there were actual, magical monsters under Mount Ebott”), and he still remembers the headlines. But like most of humanity, he can’t say he knows much more than that. Those who didn’t outright reject the notion mostly seemed content to just accept it and move on.

But now that he considers it... Red’s living in the Monster City now, surrounded by magic and creatures once thought to be myth. Maybe he should think about taking a more active interest in this type of thing.

Still, that’s a thought for another time.

Alphys may talk about her accomplishments and credentials as if she’s almost embarrassed by them, but Red’s more than a little impressed. He also notices that the stutter she spoke with at the beginning of the conversation gradually vanishes as it wears on. He wonders if it’s because she’s more confident about the subject matter.

It’s not long before the spaghetti is done, however, and Papyrus and Undyne bring out bowls for everyone before rejoining the three of them in the living room (Sans having reappeared in the room at some point without Red noticing, despite the fact that he’d been facing the entrance), and anime night properly begins.

Red winds up sitting between the Skeleton brothers on the couch, Sans on his left and Papyrus on his right, while Undyne and Alphys take the love seat. Alphys pulls a remote from somewhere, and with a few taps of her claws, the TV winks on and a streaming service is opened.

There’s some debate over which anime to watch, but Red doesn’t mind. Inexperienced as he is with the genre, he doesn’t feel the need to weigh in, and it just gives him time to enjoy his spaghetti (delicious as it turned out).

Eventually, the others settle on a newer-looking mech anime, filled with intrigue and mind control. Red’s knowledge of anime doesn’t really extend beyond the very mainstream, but even so, he finds himself getting invested. And while the show is fairly entertaining by itself, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that his enjoyment probably has more to do with the company.

Red’s new friends are by no means a quiet audience, he finds out. The night is filled with cheering and gasping and exclamations of both sadness and triumph as the show runs through its twists and turns, and eventually, Red starts joining in. He’s never spent a lot of time watching television, but he can’t imagine it would have been this much fun by himself, anyway.

Aside maybe from Red himself, Sans seems to be the most contained of the group. Red suspects that most of the skeleton’s energy is devoted to looking for opportunities to make puns and other quips about whatever might be happening on screen. And he certainly finds them; a ways through the first season of the show, he makes a series of well-placed puns that ends with Red buckled over with laughter and Papyrus scolding him for breaking the human.

Late in the evening, Red excuses himself to the restroom. And as he washes his hands, still quietly chuckling over the last joke, he glances up at his reflection in the mirror.

The man he sees looks happy. The smile on his face is easy and mirthful, and there’s something bright and exuberant dancing in his eyes.

But as his reflection studies him back, Red gazes into his own colorless eyes, and...

His smile starts to slip.

It’s only a second before he looks away, however, back down at his hands. He shakes his head and huffs out a quiet, dry laugh.

He’s being ridiculous. Tonight is a good night.

And he’s going to enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh... About that whole “finishing Arc I before I leave” thing?
> 
> Yeah.
> 
> My flight’s in about thirty-six hours? And the last chapter of the arc turned into two different chapters? And neither of them are even a little bit done?
> 
> So, I hate to say it, but this’ll probably very definitely be the last you see of me for a few weeks. Sorry!
> 
> But don’t worry. You won’t be rid of me _that_ easily. ;)
> 
> So! Until next time, my darlings~
> 
> Or, as they say in Italy,
> 
> _Au revoir!_
> 
> ...Anyway! What did you think of Alphyne’s entrance? Were they believable? Did you like the way I subverted Red’s expectations like a hip, cool author? Can I really call it a subversion if I just made things go horribly wrong unexpectedly? Do you think Red could use a hug? Are you starting to feel like _Sans_ is gonna need a hug after I crush his tiny feelings? Can you hear me laughing maniacally?
> 
> Let me know in the comments! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. It's a Beautiful Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun is shining, birds are singing... There’s not a single cloud in sight.
> 
> The wind is calm. Tranquil. It brushes softly through the trees, and the subtle rustling of their dying leaves fills the autumn air, as if even the mountain itself is sighing its contentment.
> 
> The weather is great.
> 
> Perfect, even.
> 
> ...So why is Red so uneasy? 
> 
> Why does he get the sense that he’s watching an oncoming storm?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****  
_I LIVE AGAIN!_  

> 
> And people, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news:
> 
> ...They don’t say _”au revoir”_ in Italy.
> 
> Yeah. I was shocked, too.
> 
> Anyways! Sorry for the extended delay on this one. Getting back into the rhythm after my trip was Significantly Harder than I expected, and this chapter fought me tooth and claw when I finally got to work on it. I’m pleased with the end result, but the Fire Nation was simply _dead set_ on attacking me several times while I was writing it, and I don’t think I need to tell you what _that’s_ like.
> 
> So this one ended up going not at _all_ how I thought it. But who’s to say that’s a bad thing? But, uh, that having been said?
> 
> **Here is your warning.**
> 
> Things go bad partway through this chapter, they go bad _fast,_ and that basically sets the tone through to its ending. And though I _have_ dropped some hints in the chapters that led here, it likely won’t be entirely clear where this came from until Chapter 6.
> 
> ...Happy reading!

Red wakes up to the smell of pancakes.

He doesn’t open his eyes immediately, instead allowing himself to be drawn gently out of his dreams by the heavenly scent. Taking stock of himself as consciousness gradually returns to him, he realizes something fantastic:

He feels _ great. _

A night of restful sleep has become a rare thing for him, but he must have slept like a log if the slight stiffness of his muscles is any indication. Granted, that could just be because of his position; it’s been a long time since he’s had to sleep on a couch, and for as comfortable as this one may be, it’s still a little too cramped for his liking.

_ Wait. Couch? _

_ ...Pancakes? _

Red opens his eyes to blink confusedly around the room.

It only takes a second for him to realize he’s still in the Skelebros’ living room, lying on their sofa. Sunlight filters in through the half-curtained windows.

He doesn’t remember anyone giving him the blanket he’s currently wrapped in, nor does he remember making the decision to stay over in the first place. He must have just fallen asleep at some point last night.

His brow furrows as something occurs to him. He wiggles his toes, and—

Yep.

Someone took off his shoes.

The sound of quiet conversation from the direction of the kitchen breaks him from his thoughts before he can start to feel too mortified, however. He carefully disentangles himself from the blanket and manages to get up without falling to the floor.

Sitting at the bar are Sans, Undyne and Alphys. Papyrus is manning the stove, flipping pancakes like the professional he is.

Sans must hear Red get up; the skeleton glances over his shoulder, grinning when he sees him. “‘morning.”

The others take notice of him at this.

“GOOD MORNING, RED!”

“‘Morning, PUNK!”

“Good morning, R-Red.”

He blinks slowly at the sudden attention, still not quite awake. “Ah... Hi.”

Sans’ eyes scan over him, and his grin widens slightly. “slept well, i take it?”

Red glances down at himself. The last two buttons on his shirt seem to have come undone in his sleep, and his sleeves are rolled up at uneven lengths. Everything he’s wearing is rumpled and disheveled.

He resists the urge to duck behind the couch, but just barely. Instead he just chuckles anxiously as he hurries to fix his sleeves and re-button his shirt. “I, uh... Yeah.” He runs a hand through his no-doubt hopeless hair, smiling sheepishly and fighting to keep from turning red. “Thanks.”

“Man, you took FOREVER to wake up!” Undyne tells him. “Out like a light, too. Anyone ever tell you you sleep like a rock?”

His cheeks start to burn. “Um. Yeah. Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you guys.”

“eh. don’t worry about it,” Sans says. “alph and undyne usually stay over anyway. figured you’d end up doing the same.”

Well. That does make him feel a bit better, at least.

“BREAKFAST IS READY!” Papyrus announces. “HAVE A SEAT, HUMAN, AND PREPARE FOR PAN-FRIED PERFECTION!”

Red’s smile becomes a little more genuine at that, and he moves to take the open seat next to Sans. “Pan-fried perfection _ does _ sound pretty good about now.”

Papyrus just grins at him before turning back to the stovetop and beginning to plate pancakes.

Breakfast ends up tasting every bit as good as it smells, and once his embarrassment starts to fade, Red finds himself enjoying the company just as much as the pancakes. He’s not used to sharing his mornings with anyone (let alone a group as lively as his new friends), but it’s definitely a nice change of pace.

Still, it’s not long before the food is gone, and Red remembers that he has a few things that need to get done today.

“Alright, well,” he says during a lull in the conversation. “This was a lot of fun, but I really should get going.”

He makes the mistake of glancing at Papyrus, who suddenly looks like he’s just been told Santa Clause isn’t real. “BUT IT’S SO EARLY!” he objects.

“YEAH!” Undyne adds. “Why you gotta leave so soon!?”

“Actually Undyne, we should, um. Also be leaving?” Alphys tells her. “I still have some papers to grade, and we were going to meet Asgore for tea this afternoon.”

“Oh,” she says, deflating somewhat. “Right.”

“Sorry, Papyrus,” Red says, trying to stay strong in the face of the tall monster’s puppy-dog eyes.

(How a skeleton can pull that look off so well is completely beyond him.)

Papyrus doesn’t let up, and Red’s own reluctance isn’t helping things either. “I’ve still got some homework to do, and I have an interview tomorrow I need to prepare for.”

Sans blinks at him. “‘interview’?” he asks. “you mean like a job interview?”

“Oh, Uh... Yep. I didn’t tell you about that?”

Sans shakes his head. “where at?”

“It’s that coffee shop Fuku told me about—Café Verdant,” he explains. “Got a call from the owner on Friday; asked me to come in tomorrow afternoon.”

“H-hey, that’s great!” Alphys says.

“yeah, congrats, kid.”

“Thanks, but I haven’t even gotten the job yet,” Red tells them. “It's only an interview.”

“SO?!” Undyne shouts. “Have some CONFIDENCE! No WAY are they gonna turn you down. Just go in there and show them what you’re made of! That job’s as good as yours!”

“We’ll see,” he says even as a smile works its way onto his face.

“NONSENSE! UNDYNE IS RIGHT! I BELIEVE IN YOU!” Papyrus enthuses. “ALTHOUGH... IT NEVER HURTS TO BE PREPARED. EVEN IF IT MEANS YOU CAN’T STAY LONGER...”

The tall skeleton starts to look sad again, and Red decides that a heartbroken Papyrus _ is _, in fact, every bit as bad as he imagined it. He tries to think of something he can say to lift his spirits.

“don’t worry, paps,” Sans says, beating him to the punch. He reaches a skeletal hand up to pat Papyrus’ arm. “i’m sure we’ll see him again soon.” He’s talking to Papyrus, but he glances at Red as he says that.

“Of course,” Red tells him immediately, answering the question in the lights of Sans’ eyes.

“SOON?” Papyrus asks, still crestfallen.

“yeah. soon. like, uh...”

His eyes shift to Red again.

“next saturday?”

Now _ both _ skeletons are looking at him with those big, sad sockets, and Red doesn’t even think about his reply. “Yeah, sure, I can come back then,” he says quickly, trying to placate the skeletons.

And as soon as the words leave his mouth, both brothers suddenly brighten again. Papyrus beams at him, and Sans just looks _ unbearably _ smug, as if... As if an act was just dropped.

“cool.”

Red stops short, blinking between them in the following silence. “I..."

He glances at Undyne and Alphys, who have been silent through this exchange. Both monsters are watching him amusedly.

“Did you two seriously just _ con _ me into coming back next week?” he says incredulously.

Sans shrugs.

“OF COURSE NOT!” Papyrus insists. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NO CONMAN! WE MERELY... _ JAPED _ YOU INTO IT!”

“yeah. sucker.”

Papyrus sends Sans a sharp look as Undyne and Alphys start snickering.

Red just huffs out a chuckle and shakes his head. Honestly, he’s more impressed that they managed to coordinate that than anything else.

“Alright, fine. Next Saturday it is.”

  
  
  


Red exchanges numbers with Undyne and Alphys, and Sans and Papyrus end up driving him home after he says his goodbyes. He tries to protest and say they don’t need to go through the trouble (he got here on the bus just fine, after all), but neither of them are having any of it.

Papyrus, as it turns out, owns a shiny, red, completely spotless convertible that leaves Red a little wide-eyed as he pulls it out of the garage.

There’s a bit of an odd moment where the skeletons share a glance when Red gives him his address, but neither of them comments.

They talk lightly on the way there, but the drive doesn’t take very long, and soon they pull up in front of Red’s building.

“Well. This is my stop,” he says. “Thank you both for having me over. I had a great time.”

“OF COURSE!” Papyrus shouts, his voice far too large for the interior of the car. “ANYTIME, RED.”

“yeah. what he said.”

Red grins at them both before getting out. “I’ll see you guys next week,” he says before shutting the door. He turns and starts walking up the path to the building.

“hey.”

Red jolts at the sudden sound of Sans’ voice directly behind him, whirling to face the skeleton. He’s standing casually a few feet away, hands in the pockets of the coat he always seems to be wearing.

“How do you keep _ doing _ that? I didn’t even hear you get out of the car!”

Sans just shrugs at him, his grin widening slightly. “just wanted to let you know that me ‘n paps were bein’ serious with that just now,” he says. “seeing you next week is cool and all, but you’re welcome at our place whenever. standing invite.”

Red only looks at him for a moment.

Then he narrows his eyes.

“Sans, what the hell?”

Sans blinks, his smile faltering slightly. Apparently this wasn’t the response he’d expected. “uh. huh?”

“I _ said _ ‘what the hell,’ Sans,” Red repeats clearly. “Why would you _ do _ that?”

Sans’ smile falls completely, and now he just looks confused. “‘cause i... wanna spend time with you?” he offers hesitantly, as if Red asked a trick question.

Red crosses his arms and stares him down. _ “Why?” _

Sans’ expression fades into something much more serious as he studies Red’s face. “...whadda ya mean, red?”

Red doesn’t respond for another second or two, still hoping the answer will reveal itself if he stares at his skeletal friend hard enough, but no such luck. He looks away, his shoulders sagging slightly as he lets out the breath he’d been holding. “Am I missing something here, Sans?”

Sans says nothing. Just keeps watching him with those sharp eye lights.

“We met on _ Monday, _ man. I could accept it when you invited me to lunch. Dinner with you and your brother? Sure, okay, why not? Anime night? _ Kind of _ a stretch. But then Undyne came in and started blowing up at me, and when you stepped in, you didn’t just try to diffuse it. You argued _ back. Defended _ me! Even said I was _ trustworthy. _

“And don’t get me wrong, that was really, _ really _ nice of you. But, _ Sans, _ I have no _ clue _ why you’d do that! ‘Cause the thing is, Undyne may have been wrong about my intentions, but she still kinda had a _ point, _ didn’t she? I _ am _ just ‘some random human,’ you _ did _ just meet me on the street, and you _ don’t _ know anything about me! So what makes me trustworthy? _ Why do you want to spend time with me?” _

Sans considers him for a long moment before he speaks. “maybe i wanna know more.”

Red opens his mouth to respond, and Sans waits, but Red...

He’s got nothing for this.

“do ya trust _ me?” _

Red stares at him as he tries to rationalize the answer to that question.

It doesn’t work.

Red breaks eye contact again, feeling a little defeated. “...Yeah,” he admits quietly. “Yeah, I do. But I just... I just can’t shake the feeling that we’re skipping a few steps here, somehow.”

Something unreadable flashes through Sans’ sockets, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. His eyes close, and he gives Red a lazy shrug. “maybe we are.”

Red waits a moment, but he doesn’t offer anything more. “...Why did you ask me to lunch, Sans?” he finally asks. “You’re not the type to do that on a random whim, that much is obvious. Why was I the exception?”

There’s a brief, loaded silence before Sans makes his response. He cracks a socket open, and Red can feel the way the little spark of light within it seems to shine straight through him.

“you’ve got a good soul.”

A tiny, completely involuntary shiver runs up Red’s spine as Sans says that.

The statement is simple. Frank. Delivered as if he was just stating a fact. Red can _ feel _ the sincerity of it.

And it’s completely, _ stunningly _confusing.

“i could see it when we met, and i can see it now.”

Sans lets his eyes close again, and a breath later he opens them both to properly meet Red’s gaze.

“i wanted to have lunch with you ‘cause yours is a soul worth knowing.”

Red doesn’t look away in the silence that follows, but his brain refuses to string enough words together to respond.

In the end, he makes it maybe five seconds before his vision starts to blur.

He sniffles and brings a hand up to his face in a _ completely _ useless attempt to hide the effect that statement had on him. _ “...Goddammit.” _

This is the third _ goddamn _ time in less than twenty-four hours that he’s gotten so emotional, and he can’t even _ pretend _ to cover it up now.

“Am I r-_really _ that”—_sniff_—”That easy to undo?”

Red’s voice is shaking slightly. Sans doesn’t answer.

“It was such a ch-_cheesy _ line, too,” He wipes at his eyes. His fingers come away wet. “Why am I...?”

Sans says nothing.

“How can you even be so— You can’t _ know _ that, Sans, no one’s th-_that _ easy to read!”

“maybe i’m just a bookworm.”

Red sputters out a few watery chuckles at the unexpected wordplay. “Oh, f-_fuck _ you.”

He can’t bring himself to meet Sans’ eyes again yet, but he still knows the skeletal bastard’s grinning at him. There’s a long, quiet moment as Red pulls himself back together.

Once he’s sure he can speak steadily again, he wipes his eyes one last time and takes a shaky breath, holding it for a second before he exhales. “Y’know, ah... I’m glad I met you, Sans.”

He manages to look back up at the skeleton in question as he says that, hoping to convey the truth of it. Sans is still grinning at him, but it’s not quite the same as his standard expression. The smile he’s giving Red right now is softer. “me too, red.”

“So... I’ll see you next week, then?” he asks, trying to change the subject before he loses it again.

“sounds good to me, kid.”

Red just smiles back.

“welp. i’ve kept paps waiting long enough,” Sans says after a beat. “see ya, kid.” He turns and begins walking back the way he came. “let me know how that interview goes.”

“I will,” he promises.

Red continues to smile weakly after Sans as he gets back into Papyrus’ car, and then as they pull away, down the street and out of sight.

It takes a few seconds after they’re gone for that smile to start fading.

When it disappears entirely, he takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose, his gaze shifting upwards to study the sky.

And for a moment, Red just takes in the world around him.

It’s a beautiful day.

The slight chill in the air is a little sharper than he’s used to for this time of year, but the sun still shines its way through the white, fluffy patches of cloud that drift lazily overhead.

_ ...So why does it feel like rain? _

The wind is calm, there isn’t a single dark cloud in sight, and last he checked, the forecast expects it to stay this nice for another week, at least.

_ He has no reason to believe any differently. _

Red studies the sky, and he tells himself that.

After another moment, he turns and makes his way inside.

When his alarm goes off the next morning, the weather is still every bit as pleasant.

He gets up, goes about getting ready for class, and leaves to catch the bus as soon as he’s eaten and dressed.

He hesitates for a moment on his way out the door before grabbing his umbrella.

  
  
  


It takes Red more effort than usual to push the door to Grillby’s open that Friday.

He’s already starting to regret the decision to come here. The ten-minute walk from his apartment is usually nothing worth complaining about, but he was already feeling drained, and the rain just made it feel like hell.

He trudges inside and begins making his way to his usual seat at the bar, letting the heavy piece of wood swing shut behind him.

The restaurant is all but empty; it’s quiet but for the sound of the downpour pelting the windows, and the only sign of life is one of Fuku’s waitresses—a bird monster with vibrant azure feathers and a color to match. She glances up from the table she was wiping down as he enters, and her beak curves into a bright smile.

“Well _ there _ you are!” she trills.

Red blinks sluggishly at her, not sure she’s actually talking to him. “...Hi?”

She glances at the clock on the wall behind the bar. “Little later than usual, isn’t it? We were starting to think you weren’t gonna show!”

He takes a second to process this. “Uh... Yeah.”

Then she inspects him a bit more closely. Her brow furrows. “Honey, did you walk all this way in that mess out there? Where’s your umbrella?”

Has he ever spoken to this person before? “I... Forgot it..."

She gives him a strange look.

“I’m... Sorry?" He doesn’t think he’s spoken to her before.

Her confusion seems to melt into something sympathetic. “Oh, _ hon, _ you’re dead on your feet, aren’t you?” she coos. “Did you get any sleep at _ all _ last night?”

_ Christ, _ is it that obvious? He’s too tired for this.

She tsks disapprovingly. “Well, go on and have a seat. I’ll let the boss know you’re here, and we’ll get some food in you.” She turns towards the kitchen. “Want your usual?”

“Um. Yeah. Thanks.”

“Sure thing, Red,” she chirps before hurrying away.

Red stares after her for a second.

_ What the hell just happened? _

No answer immediately presents itself, and he finds it difficult to suppress the resulting wave of frustration.

Today is _ not _ Red’s day.

He’s exhausted, he hasn’t eaten, his head is pounding, and something about that interaction makes him want to _ cry_, but he doesn’t know what it is because his _ stupid _ brain is on fucking _ strike_, and he _ just— _

Red’s eyes squeeze shut, and he takes a long, deep breath. The exhale shudders slightly as it leaves him.

He just _ can’t _ right now.

So _ that _ issue goes on the backburner.

He shambles the rest of the way over to his stool. He sags into it, slumping over the bar to prop his head up with his hands. His eyes fall shut, and he starts rubbing his temples in a weak attempt to combat the dull, throbbing pain currently eating at his senses.

He’s not left waiting long before the kitchen door opens again, and he hears the clacking of Fuku’s Oxfords on the hardwood approaching him. She stops just behind the bar.

She doesn’t say anything. Red cracks his eyes open to give her a look when the silence starts to stretch. She’s studying him.

“Something wrong?” he asks, doing his best not to sound irritated.

Her eyes narrow, and she leans back against the counter behind her. _ “Clearly,” _ she replies.

Her tone ignites a spark of something ugly in his chest, and suddenly he doesn’t care so much about being polite. He is _ not _ in the mood for this. He closes his eyes again to better ignore the look she’s giving him and goes back to massaging his temples. “Sorry to hear that,” he grumbles.

Fuku doesn’t respond immediately, and Red wonders if that got her to drop it. He feels a hollow, bitter sort of satisfaction at that. Yeah, it was a dick move, and he knows he’ll feel bad about it later, but at least now he doesn’t have to—

_ “Okay Red, _ what the _ HELL?” _

The snarled question is punctuated by the sudden, crackling roar of billowing flames, and a brief but _ powerful _ gust of hot air that makes Red jump so hard he almost winds up sprawled on the floor.

Fuku’s green-and-gold flames dance around her chaotically, and her eyes burn with more than just magical fire as she stares him down. Red can only gape at her, heart racing as he tries to process what’s happening.

The wild flickering of her fire calms into something closer to their usual disposition after a second, but the ire in her glare doesn’t fade in the slightest.

“You’ve been coming in here every day for _ two weeks,” _ she growls. “And every time, you stay for at _ least _ half an hour after you finish eating, just talking with me. I hear about how much you _ love _ living here, and how _ lucky _ you are to have already made such good friends, and you banter, and make jokes, and put _ so much effort _ into acting like you’re doing just _ peachy. _ And then whenever I try to point out how obviously _ bullshit _ that is you _ shut me down! _”

The shock that had been keeping Red frozen has melted away by the time Fuku’s done with her little speech, and with it gone he feels something angry and frustrated and _ painful _ boiling up in his chest. He can feel himself starting to lose it, and he’s trying _ so hard _ to hold onto what’s left of his composure.

_ It’s just a bad day. _

_ Don’t make any more a fool of yourself than you already have. _

_ Don’t. Let. Go. _

“Fuku,” he says, voice quiet and slow, “This is a bad day for me. That’s all. Please _ drop it.” _

But apparently Fuku just can’t take the hint.

She looks at him silently for a moment, disbelief in her eyes. "Red, if you’re so happy, then why haven’t you been sleeping?”

He stares at her, and...

“This is what, night four? Papyrus threw you that party when you told him you got the job at Verdant—that’s when it started, right? You _ can’t _ have gotten more than a couple hours a night.”

Everything seems to shift out of focus as she speaks, and the world becomes less _ there. _ As if someone simply turned it down, in the same way one might the volume of a stereo. He knows what she’s saying, hears her perfectly, yet her voice is indistinct. Distant.

_ Why. _

“I know what a downward spiral looks like. I was _ trying _ to be patient here, but _dammit,_ Red! _ Look at yourself! _ You look like _ death! _ You’ve stopped shaving, you’re _ dangerously _ pale, the shadows under your eyes look like _ bruises— _ I don’t think you’ve even _ showered _ today! Of course, it’s a little hard to say, because apparently you left your umbrella at home, and now you’re _ soaking wet! _ You’re falling apart at the _ seams!_ And it’s just getting _ worse._ I'm _ worried, _ here—!”

All at once, the world refocuses with a _ snap _ he can _ feel, _and—

Red lets go.

_ “Why do you CARE!?” _

Fuku’s eyes fly wide at his outburst. She freezes.

“What makes it your_ PROBLEM, Fuku!? _ It’s got nothing to _ DO _ with you!”

He’s shouting.

_“No,_ I _haven’t_ been sleeping! And _NO,_ maybe I’m _NOT_ fine! So _WHAT!?_ _Why does it MATTER to you!?”_

His last question is met with a deafening silence, broken only by the sound of the rain on the windows and his haggard panting as his eyes bore into hers.

And at first, she doesn’t react. Just keeps staring at him with wide, shocked eyes as the rushing noise in his ears slowly dies down and his breathing begins to slow.

But then her expression shifts. There’s a flash of something sad, but it quickly vanishes as her face morphs into a mask of neutrality.

“...I think I owe you an apology,” she says slowly.

His glare falters, just slightly.

_ That’s not...? _

“I’ve been misreading our relationship, and I’ve crossed a line as a result.”

Confusion starts to crack its way through the anger and frustration.

_ What...? _

“You’re right. It’s none of my business. This is a restaurant, I am a bartender, and you came here as my customer. It was inappropriate of me to ask anything so personal of you, and that was my mistake.”

Red’s heartbeat starts to pick up speed as she speaks, and then she looks him dead in the eyes with not _ quite _ enough forced dispassion to fully cover the pain behind it.

“I’m sorry.”

The statement stabs itself into Red’s heart like a small, _ viscerally sharp _ spike of genuine panic, completely shattering what remained of his rage. He feels the blood drain from his face as he realizes what she's just implied.

_ He fucked up. _

_ Oh God, he fucked up. _

“W-wait... F-Fuku that’s not— Don’t— No— No no no no no no, _wait—_ _Please, don’t—_ I didn’t _mean to— _I c-_can’t—!”_

His increasingly desperate attempts to force out a coherent sentence—to _beg her to stay_—are interrupted by the sound of Fuku’s voice, and he knows she’s saying something, but whatever had been keeping him together this long seems to have checked out entirely.

_He fucked it up, it was going so well, but he let go and fucked everything up, and she was his friend and he ruined that too, **how can he be such an—**_

A warm, gentle pressure grips his shoulders.

_ “Red.” _

Fuku’s crackling call drags him back to the present.

His heart is pounding painfully in his chest, he can’t get enough air, and every part of him is shaking with _ unholy terror, _ because he’s suddenly completely certain that he’s _dying._

_ His heart is exploding. _

_ This is where it ends. _

_ He fucked everything up, ruined everything he had, he’s never going to see them again, and he can’t fix it because he’s about to fucking DIE—!_

“It’s okay, Red, just breathe,” Fuku tells him. “I know what this is, and you’re going to be alright.” The words are low and calm and steady, and he _ clings _ to them like a drowning man to a lifeline. “It’ll pass, I promise. I just need you to breathe. In and out, nice and slow. I’ll help you keep the pace, just watch me, okay?”

She waits until he forces his eyes to focus on her.

_ “In..." _

She draws out the word, and the glow of her flames literally brightens as she does.

_ “...And out.” _

She dims again.

_ “In... And out. In... And out..." _

And so it proceeds; Red struggling to match the rhythm Fuku sets for him, doing his best to keep time with the waxing and waning of her flames. It _ hurts, _ and he has no idea how much time passes, but it _ does _ eventually get easier, and the pain and the fear ebb more and more with every breath.

Only when he’s _ absolutely sure _ that it’s passed does he give in to his exhaustion. His eyes slide shut, and he lets his head bow forward to rest on his knees as he releases one more controlled breath.

_ “What the fuck,” _ he croaks miserably.

“How we doing, Red?” Fuku asks quietly, hands still rubbing his shoulders. He must have slid down under the bar at some point because that’s where he finds himself now; curled into a ball on the hardwood floor, Fuku kneeling in front of him.

“I’m dead tired, my headache is _ so much worse, _ and I feel like garbage.”

“That’s a panic attack for you.”

He takes a second to process this. “I don’t get panic attacks.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He’s not sure what to say to that, so he just focuses his energy on resisting the urge to start crying uncontrollably instead.

“...So this has never happened before, then?”

“Not in my _ life.” _

Fuku doesn’t say anything as she considers this information, but she seems to come to a decision after only a moment. “...Hey, Red?”

“Mm-hmm?” he hums weakly.

_“I am your friend._ Not your bartender. Got it?”

Her tone brooks absolutely _ zero _ room for argument.

Something nebulous and confusing stirs in his chest when he registers what she said, and it kind of makes him want to hug her, argue, and burst into tears. Maybe not in that order. Then again, he’s only half sure he could handle doing even _ one _of those things at the moment, and it just wouldn’t be the same if he didn’t do all three.

_ ...Oh well. Next time. _

“...Got it,” he murmurs.

“Good. Now that we’ve got that cleared up, here’s the plan: First we’re going to get you off the floor and into one of the booths—”

Red pulls a face at the idea of moving, but doesn’t protest.

“—Then we’re going to get you an actual meal, because it’s three o’clock, and I’m not convinced you’ve eaten anything today.”

Again, he doesn’t comment.

“And once we’ve got you feeling a little better, we’re going to sit down, just you and me, and you’re going to fill me in on what’s been bothering you.”

Red tenses, unable to shake the feeling that he’s walked into some kind of trap.

“Nuh-uh. We’re not going back to that,” she informs him firmly. “I’m your friend, remember? You agreed to that. And _ as _ your friend, it _ matters _ to me when something drives you to a sleep-deprivation-induced panic attack. I get to care about that. That’s how it works.”

He hesitates.

He hates that he hesitates.

“...Please, Red?”

“...Alright...”

His voice is small, and vulnerable, and pathetic.

But for the first time since he walked in, Fuku smiles at him.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don’t need _me_ to tell you this, I’m sure, but...
> 
> Fixing something often means making a mess of it first.
> 
> ...Anyway!
> 
> ...
> 
> ...Hmm.
> 
> Y’know, this is usually the part where I ask you a series of increasingly silly rhetorical questions (seven of them, actually), followed by that prompt asking you to comment.
> 
> But with how we’ve left it off here... I don’t know. I’m not really in the mood for that.
> 
> And that’s alright. We can afford to let things look a little dark, for now.
> 
> Tomorrow will be a better day.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
